%   ^    n% 


^: 


^>^^>  ^<0. 


^^A^ 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


""  !IIM 
■  iliU 

:!i  m 


||Z2 
|2£ 

1.8 


1.25      1.4      1.6 

^ 6" 

► 

V} 


^% 


c^ 


cr-l 


e2 


W  Ay 


o 


A^ 


^4 

f// 


m 


7 


Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTEkN.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


^* 


^ 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  tor  Historical  Microreproductions  Institut  canadien  de  microreproductions  historiques 

1980 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best 
original  copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this 
copy  which  may  be  bibliographically  unique, 
which  may  alter  any  of  the  images  in  the 
reproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  change 
the  usual  method  of  filming,  are  checked  below. 


L'Institut  a  microfilm^  le  meilleur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  6X6  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details 
de  cet  axempiaire  qui  sont  peut-dtre  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibliographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dans  la  m^thode  normale  d>?  filmage 
sont  indiqu6s  ci-dessous. 


n 
n 

n 

□ 
□ 


D 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 

Covers  damaged/ 
Couverture  endommag6e 

Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaurde  et/ou  pelliculde 

Cover  title  missing/ 

Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 

Coloured  maps/ 

Cartes  g6ographiques  en  couleur 

Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 

Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrat'ons/ 
Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

Bound  with  other  material/ 
Re\\6  avec  d'autres  documents 

Tight  binding  may  cause  sh&dows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  reliure  serree  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
distortion  le  long  de  la  marge  intdrieure 

Blank  leaven  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajoutdes 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dans  le  texte, 
mais,  lorsque  cela  6tait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  6t6  film^es. 


□    Coloured  pages/ 
Pages  de  couleur 

□    Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommag^es 

□    Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Pages  restaur^es  et/ou  pellicul^es 

I — I    Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 


Pages  d^color^es,  tachet^es  ou  piqudes 

Pages  detached/ 
Pages  ddtach^es 


D 


Showthrough/ 
Transparence 


QuaUty  of  print  varies/ 


I 1    Qualitd  in6gale  de  I'impressiort 

□    Includes  supplementary  material/ 
Comprend  du  materiel  supplementaire 


D 
D 


Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Edition  disponible 

Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pages  totalement  ou  partiellement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata,  une  pelure, 
etc.,  ont  6t6  film6es  6  nouveau  de  fapon  6 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 


□ 


Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  suppl6mentaires: 


7 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  film*  au  taux  de  reduction  indiqud  ci-dessous. 


10X 

14X 

18X 

22X 

26X 

30X 

■■"^ 

i9y 

hi^^Kd 

1fiX 

20X 

24X 

28X 

32X 

The  copy  filmed  here  has  been  reproduced  thanks 
to  the  generosity  of: 

National  Library  of  Canada 


L'exemplaire  i\\rn6  fut  reproduit  grace  d  la 
g6n§rosit6  de: 

BiDJiothdque  nationale  du  Canada 


The  images  appe&ring  here  are  the  best  quality 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  original  copy  and  in  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specifications. 


Les  images  suivantes  ont  6t6  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  et 
de  la  nettet^  de  l'exemplaire  filmd,  et  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 


Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


Les  exemplaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprimde  sont  filmds  en  commenqant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'imp.ession  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  selon  le  cas.  Tous  les  autres  exemplaires 
originaux  sont  film^s  en  commenpant  par  la 
premiere  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  — ♦-  (meaning   'CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  V  (meaning   "END"), 
whichever  applies. 


Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaitra  sur  la 
derni^re  image  de  chaque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbole  — ^  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
symbole  V  signifie  "FIN". 


Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  etre 
film6s  d  des  taux  de  reduction  diff^rents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  etre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  clichd,  il  est  film§  d  partir 
de  Tangle  sup^rieur  gauche,  de  gauche  d  droite, 
et  de  naut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  n^cessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  m6thode. 


1 

2 

3 

32X 


1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

PICTURESQUE   QUEBEC 


Picturesque  Quebec 


EDITED  BY 


GEORGE   MONRO  GRANT,  D.D. 


Of  Qiuens  University 


WITH    AN    KLAIiORATE 


PREFACE 


BV 


JULIAN    HAWTHORNE 


II.I.USTRATKD    BY 


MORAN,   F.   B.   SCHELL.   SCHELL    &    HOGAN,   BOURNILL,  O'BRIEN,   GIBSON 

OGDEN.    AND    OTHERS 


UNDKR    TIIK.    SUl'KKVISION    OK 


L.   R.   O'BRIEN,    Prest.  R.  C.  A. 


CHICAGO,  NEW  YORK.  AND   SAN   ERANCISCO 

BICLFORD,  CLARKE  &  CO. 

PUBLISHERS 


1401120 


rot 


^r(rl/U/  Q 


OirYKiciiTEn 

BlrXDKN    liKOTHERS 

iS88 


y 


PREFACE. 


By  Julian  Haw/borne. 


I  HAVE  in  my  possession  a  little,  mean-looking  book,  about  six  inches  long  by  three 
and  a  half  broad,  bound  in  parchment  yellowed  by  age  and  wrinkled  by  damp.  It  is 
written  in  the  Latin  of  the  Elizabethan  period,  with  curious  contractions  and  solecisms, 
and  contains  upward  of  two  hundred  pages.  The  title  has  a  design  of  symbolic  figures 
engraved  on  copper,  amidst  which  appears  a  scroll  bearing  the  words,  "  Mundtis  Alter 
et  Idem.     Auth.     Mcnurio  Brittannico.     Hannovitc,   A°   1607." 

If  you  care  to  brave  the  difficulties  of  the  contracted  and  bastard  Latin,  you  will 
find  that  the  volume  consists  of  an  account  of  the  author's  travels  in  a  region  which  he 
calls  "  Terra  Australis,  ante  Itac  semper  incognita"  and  that  his  adventures  in  this 
hitherto  une.xplored  continent  are  of  so  strange  and  romantic  a  character,  that  it  does 
not  surprise  you  to  learn,  on  reference  to  the  proper  authorities— ?^/V/^  "Bibliographical 
and  Retrospective  Miscellany"  for  1830,  p.  56-that  Dean  Swift  is  understood  to  have 
taken  the  idea  of  his  "Gulliver's  Travels"  from  this  work;  which  is,  in  fact,  the  pro- 
duction of  one  Bish.p  Hall,  of  famous  and  satirical  memory,  who  adopted  that  method 
of  exercising  his  imagination,  and  ventilating  his  notions  regarding  social  phenomena  and 
the  vagaries  of  human  nature. 

Not  the  least  entertaining  feature  of  the  book  is  the  series  of  maps  which  are 
fastened  in  at  the  end  of  it.  The  numbtr  of  fanciful  representations  of  this  planet  of 
ours  which  were  devised  during  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries,  passes  mention  ; 
but  these  designs  yield  to  none  of  them  in  eccentric  interest.  The  earth,  to  begin  with,  is 
treated  as  a  Hat  surface.  Indeed,  though  Magellan  had  circumnavigated  the  globe  nearly 
a  century  before  the  date  of  Bishop  Hall's  book,  the  fact  of  its  rotundity  had  not  then 
been,  and  was  not  until  long  afterward,  generally  accepted;  nay,  it  is  not  twenty  years 
since  an  ingenious  monomaniac,  by  the  name  of  "  Parallax,"  published  a  volume  restating 
the  venerable  dogma  of  flatness,  with  copious  demonstrations.  The  accuracy  of  the 
good  bishop's  designs  suffers  from  his  rejection  of  the  Magellian  and  Copernican  ideas ; 
and  his  North  and  South  America,  and  Europe,  Asia,  and  Africa  appear  strangely  dis- 
torted.     The  river  Amazon  is  a  prolonged  strait,  dividing  the  South   American  continent 


VI 


PRE  FACE. 


into  two  iincciual  parts.  Capt;  St.  Roquc,  of  the  latter  country,  approaches  within  some 
five  hundred  miles  of  Cape  Veril,  in  .Africa.  The  Pacific  Ocean  contains  hut  a  sinj,'lt! 
island,  named  St.  Pedro,  and  North  America  siiows  a  hlank,  uneventful  surface  e.xtend- 
ing  no  higher,  apparently,  than  about  the  fortieth  parallel,  and  totally  destitute  of  rivers. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  Straits  of  Maj^ellan  separate  Patai^onia,  not  from  iIk;  unimpor- 
tant "  Tierra  del  Iniej^o "  of  our  geofjraphics,  Init  from  a  t,Mjjantic  continent,  with  a 
coast-line  extending  east  and  west  fully  twenty-five  thousand  miles,  and  exhibiting  an 
area  at  least  four  times  as  great  as  that  of  all  liie  rest  of  the  world  put  together. 
This  last  purports  to  have  been  the  fiekl  of  tiie  author's  explorations  ;  and  an  extraor- 
dinary piece  of  ground   it  is. 

Antl  yet,  there  seems  to  have  been  no  gooil  reason  why  tlu;  readers  of  A"  1607 
should  not  have  accejneil  it  in  good  faith ;  and  I  dare  say  many  of  them  did.  I'"or 
nobody  really  knew,  in  those  days,  wliat  the  earth  really  was  like.  Drake  and  Raleigh 
had  made  their  voyages ;  but  they  had  made  them  with  their  imaginations  so  inflamed 
with  anticipations  of  uiystery  and  splendor,  ami  with  eyes  so  determined  to  behold 
marvels  and  magnificence,  that  tiieir  travellers'  tales  well-nigh  corresponded,  not  with  their 
experience,  but  with  their  pre|)ossessions.  The  ])eople  at  home  were  ready  to  believe 
anything,  provided  it  were  da/zling  and  miraculous.  No  one  knew — no  one  could  even 
conjecture  what  secrets  the  mighty  Western  Continent  might  yet  reveal.  Surely,  it  must 
have  been  delightful  and  stimulating  to  possess  so  vast  a  held  for  speculation  and  wonder. 
Nothing  of  the  sort  is  left  for  us  of  to-day,  except  a  few  hundred  s([uare  miles  in  the 
depths  of  .\frica,  and  some  frigid  possibilities  at  the  Pole.  If  we  want  miracles,  we  must 
turn  our  thoughts  to  the  moon,  or  to  Mercury,  and  ask  whether  they  are  inhabited,  and, 
if  so,  by  what  manner  of  beings.  The  earth  -the  surface  of  it  at  any  rate  —is  a  twice- 
told  tale. 

Bishop  Hall's  map,  so  far  as  th.;  North  .American  aspect  of  it  is  concerned,  gives  no 
hint  of  the  great  river  hereafter  to  be  called  the  St.  Lawrence,  nor,  a  fortiori,  of  such 
a  place  as  Quebec ;  though  a  French  navigator,  by  the  name  of  Jacques  Cartier,  had 
visited  the  locality  as  much  as  seventy  years  previous,  and  had  anchored  his  ships 
below  the  Indian  village  under  the  cliff,  known  as  Stadacona.  Hut  Jacques  Cartier,  so 
far  as  we  know,  took  no  surveying  instruments  with  him,  and  the  strongest  impression 
he  brought  home  with  him  probably  was  of  the  scenery.  He  doubtless  gave  Francis  I. 
an  account  of  the  country  he  had  visited ;  but  h'rancis  was  astute  and  selfish,  and  the 
more  he  believed  Cartier's  story,  the  less  likely  would  he  be  to  desire  its  general  publi- 
cation. The  monarchs  of  Europe  were,  at  that  period,  jealously  watching  one  another's 
movements  westward,  each  fearing  lest  one  <>f  the  others  should  succeed  in  fastening  his 
clutches  on  something  of  incalculable  value — such  as  a  range  of  mountains  of  solid  gold, 
or  a  Sindbad's  valley  full  of  diamonds.  Spain,  France,  and  England,  not  to  mention  the 
undemonstrative  but  intrepid  Dutch,  all  wanted  everything,  and  were   resolved  to  assert 


PRE  J' ALE, 


VII 


and  maintain  thoir  prior  claim  tlicreto ;  but  while  the  other  nations  had  prosecuted  their 
researches  lor  the  most  part  on  or  below  the  thirtieth  parallel,  I'rance,  either  by  accident 
or  desijrn,  directed  her  course  toward  the  north.  If  the  I'rench  had  been  as  jrood  col- 
onists as  the  Spaniartls,  or  cv<;n  as  the  I'jiijlish,  North  American  history  would  uniloubt- 
edly  have   had  a  complexion   very  tlifferent  from  that   which   it   possesses. 

For  seventy  years,  tlu-n,  after  the  e.\|)eiliti<)n  of  Jacques  Cartier,  the  jjreat  northern 
river  remained  undisturbed,  and  probably  unthou),du  ol ;  .and  tlie  men  who  had  been  living 
at  tliat  earlier  t-poch  had  lorii;-  been  in  their  i^raves,  wlum  the  second  adventurer  set 
forth.  SanuK'l  de  Champlain  started  on  his  voyaj,'e  early  in  tin;  summer  of  1608-  only  a 
few  months  after  my  copy  of  Mishop  1  bill's  story  of  adventure  was  delivered  tj  the  public. 
Very  likely  Champlain  had  seen  it,  thouirli,  as  has  been  intimatetl,  it  could  have  furnished 
him  with  but  scanty  enli^ditenment  as  to  the  rei^ion  he  was  about  to  visit.  Me  that  as 
it  may,  he  might  reasonably  have  thoujjjht  that  the  northern  part  of  the  world  offered  as 
promisinj^  a  theatre  for  strange  discoveries  as  the  southern  ;  and  that  he  might  bring  back 
with  liim  a  narrative  as  sensational  as  that  of  the  imaginative  ecclesiastic,  and  more  trust- 
worthy, it  was,  at  all  events,  with  brilliant  hopes  and  prospects  that  he  weigheil  anchor, 
and  -which  was  mor(;  to  the  point  with  personal  capacities  and  powers  which,  humanly 
speaking,  insur<'d  his  success.  Tlie  main  iiumetliate  objects  of  his  e.  lition  were  two — 
to  found  a  trading  station  foi  a  great  fiir-tr:.ding  compaiu'  ;  and  to  plant  in  the  New 
World  the  authority  and  religion  of  I'Vancc  In  the  sequel,  it  was  discov'(;red,  as  might 
have  been  expected,  that  these  aims  did  not  harmonize  cordia'ly ;  but  fortunately  for  civil- 
ization, Champlain  sympathized  more  with  the  latter  aim  than  with  the  former;  he  cared 
more  to  eihicate  the  nativ(;s,  and  to  give  colonists  tiie  n, cans  of  supporting  themselves  by 
agriculture,  than  to  fill  the  selfish  pockets  of  a  corporation.  And  during  the  succeeding 
twenty-eight  y(!ars  of  his  life,  iu'  gave  the  settlement  an  impetus  in  the  right  direction 
which  it  never  lost,  and  left  behind   iiiin  iIk;  iiaiiu;  and   fame  of  the  creator  of  Canada. 

The  ■'  Stadacona  "  which  Jacepies  Cartier  hail  told  of  had  disappeared  from  remem- 
branci!  during  the  intervening  seventy  years  (though  it  still  survives  under  the  guise  of  the 
St.  Roche  suburb,  and  in  the  patriotic  recollection  of  the  present  inhabitants),  and  Cham- 
plain's  station  was  known  by  the  naine  it  has  ever  since  borne,  of  Quebec.  The  name  like 
all  of  Indian  origin,  has  a  significance  I)aseil  upon  a  striking  physical  feature  of  the  place 
which  hears  it.  "  Quebec  "  means  th(;  sudden  narrowing  of  the  waters  of  the  river,  which 
takes  place  between  the  heights  on  the  northern  side  and  the  point  on  the  southern,  just 
above  the  Isle  of  Orleans.  Eastward,  the  stream  widens  rapidly  to  a  breadth  of  twenty, 
forty,  and  a  hundred  miles.  The  Laurentian  Mountains  loom  in  the  distance  on  the  north  of 
the  city,  and  the  loftier  Notre  Dame  range  uplift  themselves  on  the  south  ;  the  height  on 
and  around  which  the  city  itself  is  built  is  abrupt  and  striking — a  vast,  aggressive  shoulder  of 
rock,  advanced  defiantly  against  invasion.  Whether  to  impress  the  imagination,  or  to 
answer  practical  needs,  no  fitter  place  than  this  could  have  been  found  on  which  to  set  the 


VIII 


PREFACE. 


pioneer  colony  of  a  new  nation.      The  lint;s  which  Scott  wroic  of  his  native  country  apply 
with  no  less  precision  to  this  superb  region  : 


"Lund  of  wild  hentli  and  slmKRY  wood  ! 
Land  of  tlic  iiioiintiun  and  tlic  tliiod  ! " 


The  scale  is  prander,  hut  the  features  are  the  same. 

It  is  no  wonder,  therefore,  that  Cape  Diamond  has  been  a  jewel  for  which  the  French 
and  the  Enj^lish  have  Htrufjjjled  from  the  first.  The  very  impossibility  (as  it  mi,i,dit  appear)  of 
capturinjr  so  reiloublable  a  sironj^diold,  would  act  as  a  stimulus  to  the  warriors  who  attempted 
it,  even  were  it  r)ot  also  the  key  to  the  j^reat  dominion  beyond.  Sir  David  Kirke's  capture 
of  it  took  place  nearly  a  hundred  years  before  the  existence  of  tiie  fortifications  designed  by 
the  Frenchman  De  Levy;  hut  it  resisted  the  attack  of  .Sir  William  Phipps  in  1690;  and  Ad- 
miral Warren,  early  in  the  next  century,  was  prevented  by  fogs  ami  storms  from  so  much  as 
getting  within  gunshot  of  tin;  fortress.  Wolfe,  as  the  world  will  long  remember,  was  suc- 
cessful in  1759  ;  the  next  year  the  I'rench  under  De  Levis  failed  in  a  similar  enterprise,  and 
the  ownership  of  the  stronghold  was  finally  decided  in  favor  of  England  by  the  disastrous 
campaign  of  . Arnold  and  Montgomery.  If  the  time  e\er  comes  when  it  shall  pass  into  the 
possession  of  the  United  States,  the  consiileration  will  doubtless  hi.-,  not  blood  ami  powder, 
but  parchment  and  ink.  There  are  no  present  signs,  however,  that  either  party  desires  such 
an  arrangement. 

Indeed,  not  to  speak  of  other  reasons,  a  regaid  for  the  picturesque  in  scenery  and  his- 
tory should  be  enough  to  discourage  an  American  jiroprietorship  of  this  venerable  coign 
of  vantage.  The  present  inliabitants  are  a  full  century  behind  the  times  as  regards  progress 
and  business  energy  ;  and  their  innate  inertia  (to  call  it  by  no  more  graphic  name)  assures 
the  preservation  of  the  place  in  its  pr<;sent  condition  for  the  longest  possible  time.  The 
French  occupants  of  the  Province  of  Quebec  to-ilay  outnumber  those  of  English  descent  in 
the  proportion  of  more  than  fifteen  to  one  ;  and  their  aim,  reinforced  by  their  religion,  is  to 
enjoy  life,  and  to  make  no  alterations  in  their  old  way  of  living  it.  The  old  houses,  the  old 
streets,  the  old  agricultural  processes,  the  old  manners  and  customs,  survive  to-day  almost 
untouched  by  time.  Their  one  staple  industry  is  the  hewing  of  timber  in  their  inexhaustible 
forests  ;  and  during  a  winter  which  lasts  from  November  to  May  even  this  is  impracticable 
and  the  population  willingly  surrenders  itself  to  the  delights  of  the  toboggan,  the  sleigh,  and 
all  the  sports  of  snow  and  ice.  Thanks  to  the  i)olitically  unwise,  but  otherwise  commendable 
decree  of  the  British  Government,  the  English  language  is  not  taught  in  the  schools,  and  the 
French  tongue  is  everywhere  heard.  The  Roman  Catholic  priest  treads  these  narrow  streets 
with  the  air  of  a  master,  as  well  he  may  ;  since,  for  more  than  two  hundred  and  fifty 
continuous  years,  the  subtle  decay  that  characterizes  that  sensuous  and  alluring  religion 
has  fed  upon  the  very  tap-root  of  the  Quebec  community.     In  short,  the  atmosphere  of  the 


rRi-.i-Aci:. 


Ix 


place  is  not  merely  Kiiropoan,  but  mediaeval ;  it  is  older,  in  appearance  and  condi  on,  than 
settlements  of  far  greater  antiquity  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic.  With  St.  Augustine  at 
one  extremity  of  tlu'  continent,  and  Quebec  at  the  other,  we  do  not  need  to  seek  abroad  for 
the  charms  that  belong  to  what  is  ancient.  They  are  here,  and  are  likely  to  remain  here 
quite  as  long  as  anywhere  else. 

Of  the  changes  that  would  come  over  the  Canadian  citadel  under  an  .\merican  adminis- 
tration, it  is  unnecessary  to  speak.  Very  probably  Cape  Diamond  would  be  levelled  to  the 
gronnil  with  dynamite  cartridges,  after  the  fashion  of  our  own  Hell-Gale,  and  a  prosperous 
city  of  broad  streets  and  square  "  blocks"  would  arise  upon  its  ruins.  The  smoke  of  count- 
less factories  would  pollute  the  crystalline  atmosphere  ;  the  river  would  lie  bridged  above 
and  tunnelled  beneath  ;  the  virgin  forests  would  melt  away,  and  their  place  wou.d  be 
occupied  by  a  vast  agricultural  community,  which  would  pour  into  the  region  under  the 
stiinuhis  of  Government  land-grants  and  new  facilities  of  transport.  A  way  would  be 
made  for  Ruropean  steamers  up  t!te  .St.  Lawrence  and  vid  the  Lakes  to  Chicago,  and, 
in  a  word,  Canada  would  become  one  the  wealthiest  countries  in  the  world  ;  and  one 
of  the  least  attractive — even  to  bank-cashiers  and  boodle-aldermen.  Let  us  trust  that 
such  a  consummation  may  not  be  in  our  day. 

Where,  meanwhile,  could  lie  found  a  field  more  available  for  the  novelist  and 
romancer,  whether  realistic,  ideal,  or  historical .'  The  latter's  chief  embarrassment  would 
be  to  decide  whether  the  religious,  the  warlike,  or  the  pioneering  features  of  the 
chronicle  would  suit  his  purpcse  best,  or  whether  to  make  a  pot-pourri  of  all  three. 
The  Jesuits  arrived,  much  to  the  discontent  of  the  Fur-trading  Company,  in  1625,  and 
approved  themselves,  then  as  at  other  times,  models  of  self-sacrifice  and  devotion  ;  they 
showed  what  can  be  done  by  luen  who  have  surrendered  conscience  and  private  judg- 
ment to  human  masters,  and  are  prepared  to  give  ui)  life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of 
happiness  to  further  the  material  aggrandizement  ami  spiritual  tyranny  of  their  Church. 
IJut  whatever  may  be  thought  of  their  ultimate  designs,  their  incidental  measures  were 
beneficent.  They  lived  with  the  Indians,  travelled  with  them,  mastered  their  language, 
taught  them  the  rudiments  of  learning,  nursed  them  in  sickness,  built  hospitals  for  their 
accommodation,  and,  in  so  far  as  was  humanly  possible,  led  them  to  believe  that  the 
great  white  race  had  established  themselves  on  their  shores  for  other  purposes  than  to 
cheat  them  out  of  their  birthright  and  woodland  wealth.  The  spirit  of  Christ  was  in 
these  early  missionaries — with  only  one  difference,  that  they  labored,  not  for  God,  but 
for  the  Society  of  Jesus.  Ancl  at  that  very  moment,  in  Italy,  the  same  Society  was 
compelling  Galileo,  imder  pain  of  torture,  to  deny  the  work  of  his  life,  to  swear  to  a 
lie,  and  to  undo,  so  far  as  might  be,  the  i^riceless  benefits  which  his  intellect  and 
energy  had  conferred  upon  mankind.  Rut  time  proves  all  things.  To-day  the  Indians, 
for  whom  the  Jesuits  forsook  all  that  makes  life  tolerable,  have  vanished  from  the  face 
of   the    earth,    Indians    and    heathen    still;    and    the    work    of  the    Italian    astronomer   is 


PRIiFACr.. 


recognized  as  the  basis  of  all  our  subsequent  knowledge,  and  has  siied  imperishable 
glory  upon  his  name.       Truly,   "  by  their  works  shall  you  know  them." 

It  was  not  the  Jesuit  I*"athers  alone  who  abandoned  all  for  the  Church.  Even  more 
memorable  is  the  career  of  such  a  woman  as  Madame  de  la  Peltrie,  ricli,  noble,  and 
beautiful,  who,  in  1639,  left  th('  pleasures  and  splendors  of  the  Parisian  Court  and,  with- 
out one  backwaril  glance  or  tiiought,  plunged  into  the  northwestern  wilderness,  and 
buried  herself  there.  .And  there,  for  more  than  twenty  years,  she  lived  and  worked,  and 
died  at  last — it  such  a  being  can  be  said  to  the.  We  are  wont  to  talk  of  the  frivolity, 
the  thoughtlessness,  the  moral  corruption  and  degradation  of  those  times  ;  and  the  court 
of  France  is  cited  as  the  culmination  of  \  ice  and  tiebaucher\-.  Yet,  out  of  that  foul  swamp 
of  evil  sprang  this  pure  anil  gracious  llowi-r,  wiiose  golden  iieart  was  rich  with  lovi;  for 
those  whom  she  deemed  most  forlorn  ;ind  outcast  .\r(;  there  souls  of  women  more  de- 
voted and  constant  now  ?  We  iiave  women  novelists,  women  doctors,  women  agitators, 
women  Presidential  candidate.  :  but  the  race  of  Matlame  de  la  Peltrie  does  not  seem  to 
have  greatly  multiplied  in  the  earth.  And  yet,  perhaps,  the  career  she  missed  was  nobler 
and  more  arduous  than  the  one  she  followed.  Wiien  she  set  lu,-r  fair  fsice  across  the 
dosolaie  Atlantic  and  sought  the  wilderness  of  heathendom  and  ignorance,  she  left  a 
more  hopeless  heathendom,  a  more  terrible  wilderness  behind  her.  Not  the  saciiems  of 
the  llurons  and  .-\lgonquins,  but  the  king  and  courtiers  of  her  native  country,  slooil  mosl 
in  ])eril  of  death  and  judgment.  Might  not  the  influence  of  women  like  her,  e.xertcd  in 
the  midst  of  that  great  ho':-bed  of  iniquity,  hav(;  operated  to  save  some  of  those  lofty 
heads  destined  to   fail  thereafter  on  the  guillotine  of  i  793  ? 

Well,  the  Hotel  Dien  and  the  Convent  of  the  Ursulines  still  stand  as  the  monuments 
of  this  illustrious  lady  and  of  those  who  accompanied  her.  Their  work  was  beneficent 
and  honorable  ;  and  when  they  had  passed  away,  champions  of  another  sort  were  found 
to  achieve  other  deeds.  Louis  XI\^  seems  to  have  felt  a  cordial  interest  in  the  colony; 
and,  in  1663,  he  sent  to  Oueliec  the  man  to  wiiom,  after  Champlain,  the  city  and  the 
province  are  most  indebted.  Talon,  the  first  Intendani,  combined  in  himself  many  of  the 
rarest  elements  of  greatness.  His  energy,  wisdom,  and  integrity  effectinl  marvels  tow- 
ard conquering  the  wilderness  and  rendering  it  prospctrous  and  populous.  He  cleared  the 
forest,  he  built  houses  and  foundi.-d  industries,  he  encouraged  immigration,  and  prosecuted 
exploration  and  discovery  in  all  directi:.ns.  Enemies  on  the  spot  and  foes  abroad  he 
foui,dit  and  overcame  ;  his  will  and  his  policy  were  supreme,  and,  so  far  as  history  re- 
veals, thev  were  in  all  respects  good.  iJut  against  the  brightness  of  this  famous  name 
is  set,  in  darkness  and  ignominy,  that  of  his  successor  nearly  a  century  later-  -Bigot,  the 
•wicked.  He  was  one  of  those  titled  scoundrels  whom  Providence  occasionally  sees  fit  to 
put  in  high  places,  as  if  to  show  mankind  by  example  what  sorry  pranks  unbridled  vice 
and  power  combined  can  play.  The  tale  of  his  crimes,  debaucheries,  and  follies  still  sur- 
vives like  the   memory  of  an  ugly  nightmare,   though  the  gorgeous   palace  in    which  his 


PRHJ'ACE. 


XI 


sinister  revels  were  iield  is  now  but  a  fragment  of  grass-grown  ruin,  and  the  ovil  he  did, 
like  all  other  evil  deeds  of  man,  has  by  the' subtle  alchemy  of  time  either  been  trans- 
formed into  good,  or  its  effect  has  utterly  disappeared.  From  this  execrated  figure  we 
turn  with  relief  to  that  of  the  lovable,  arbitrary,  iieadstrong  Laval — the  worthy  and  able 
bisliop,  who  scarcely  cared  to  conceal  his  own  naive  surprise  at  finding  himself  "always 
ill  tiu!  right."  And  so  the  picturesque  procession  goes  on,  in  light  and  shadow,  in  peril 
and  prosperity,  in  failure  and  success,  until  it  culminates^so  far  as  the  French  ele- 
ment is  concerned— in  tlie  gallant  lineaments  of  Frontenac,  who  ushers  in  the  memor- 
able and  fatal  date  of  1759. 

"  If,"  says  one  of  the  greatest  of  English  writers,  "  if  no  man  is  to  be  styled  happy 
till  after  his  deatii,  what  shall  we  say  of  Wolfe?  His  end  was  so  glorious,  that  I 
protest  not  even  his  mother  or  hi^  mistress  ought  to  have  deplored  it,  or  at  an\-  rate 
have  wished  him  alive  again.  I  knov/  it  is  a  hero  we  speak  of;  and  yet  I  vow  I 
scarce  know  whether  in  the  last  act  of  his  life  I  ndmire  the  result  of  genius,  invention, 
and  daring,  or  the  boldness  of  a  gamb'er  winning  surprising  odds.  Suppose  his  ascent 
discovered  a  half-hour  sooner,  antl  iiis  peopU;,  as  they  would  have  been  assuredly, 
beaten  back .''  Suppose  the  Marquis  of  Montcalm  not  to  quit  his  entrenched  lines  to 
accept  that  strange  challenge  ?  Suppose  these  points  -and  none  of  them  tlepend  upon 
Ml".  Wolfe  at  all — and  what  becomes  of  the  glory  of  the  young  hero,  of  the  great 
minister  who  discovered  him,  of  the  intoxicated  nation  which  rose  up  frantic  with  self- 
gratulation  at  the  victory?  I  say,  what  fate  is  it  that  shapes  our  ends,  o.  those  of 
nations  ?  In  the  many  hazardous  games  that  my  Lord  Chatham  played,  he  won  this 
prodigious  one.  And  as  the  greedy  British  hand  seizei!  the  Canadas,  it  let  fall  the 
United  States  out  of  its  grasp." 

That  day  was  the  apogee  of  the  history  of  Quebec,  and  it  would  be  anticlimax  to 
pursue  it  further.  But  there  stands  the  old  city,  as  it  stootl  then  -quaint,  grotesque, 
charming.  There  are  its  strange,  high-roofed  houses,  standmg,  as  it  were,  on  one 
another's  shoulders,  in  their  eagerness  to  command  a  \iew  of  the  noble  harbor  and  the 
distant  opposing  mountains ;  there  are  the  antique  streets,  narrow,  preciijitous,  pre[)oster- 
ous,  but  captivating ;  there  is  its  noble  terrace,  spread  hixuriously  on  the  headlong  brow 
of  the  cliff  that  overhangs  the  lower  town  ;  there  are  the  mediseval  gates  anil  walls,  like 
those  of  French  cities  in  the  time  of  Henry  of  Navarre;  and  there  is  the  frowning  and 
impregnable  citadel,  with  its  cannon  and  its  flag  -the  red-cross  flag  of  P'ngland.  It  is  a 
wonderful  spot;  it  is  impossible  to  contemplate  it  immoved.  And  those  who  read  the 
following  pages,  and  look  at  the  pictures  which  decorate  every  jiage.  will  be  able  to 
bring  the  scene  before  themselves  in  imagination,  almost  as  \ividly  as  if  they  had 
actually  journeyed  thither,   antl   made  it  a  part  of  their  living  memory. 

I?ut  here,  before  me,  lies  that  litde  volume  of  Bishop  Hall's,  with  its  soiled  parch- 
ment cover  and   its  absurd   maps ;    and   it  is   strange   to  think  that,  when   that  book  was 


xu 


PREFACE. 


printed,  Quebec  '.ad  -.o  existence;  Chainpiain  knew  not  of  his  coming  fame;  Madame 
de  la  Peltrie  was  a  little  girl  in  pinafores  ;  Talon,  Bigot,  Frontenac,  Wolfe— where  were 
they?  I  know  not  whether  the  litde  book,  on  whose  map  is  no  Canada,  no  United 
States,  no  River  St.  Lawrence,  and  no  Quebec,  makes  these  places  and  persons  and 
events  seem  more  real  or  less  so.  Rather,  perhaps,  it  takes  me  back  into  that  ancient, 
ignorant,  enterprising  epoch  to  which  it  belongs,  and  puts  all  these  things  in  the  light  of 
a  splendid  dream,  such  as  Shakespeare  or  Bacon  might  have  dreamt,  of  what  the  future 
should  bring  forth. 

It  is  no  dream  now  ;  the  future  has  become  the  past  and  the  present  ;  but  if 
Wolfe  had  not  conquered  on  the  Plains  of  Abraham,  the  history  of  the  world  would 
have  been  changed,  and  this  Preface  would  never  have  been  written  ! 


CONTENTS. 


PREFACE    BY   JULIAN    HAWTHORNE. 


QUEBEC— HISTURICAL    REVIEW 

By  George  M.  Grant,  D.  i>. 


•  • 


QUEBEC,   PICTURESQUE   AND   DESCRIPTIVE 

By  Hiss  A.  M.  Maihar. 


XXXIII. 


FRENCH   CANADIAN    LIFF   AND   CHARACTER     . 

By  J.  G.  A.  Cmightim,  M.  A. 


LXIl. 


MONTREAL 


lly  Rev.  A.  J.  Bray  and  John  Lesperance,  M.R.S.C. 


•  • 


CIV. 


!i 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Quebec       ...... 

Chapter  Illustration  .... 

Arrival  of  Jac(iuis  Cartii.r  at  Stauacona 

Triumph  ok  thk  Snow  I'lough 

Champlain  ..... 

Notre  Dame  Des  N'ictoires     . 

Little  Champlain  Street 

Mountain  Hill    ..... 

Prkscott  Gate      ..... 

In  the  (iARDKNS   OF  THE   URSUI.INK  CONVENT 

St.  Roch's  Suhurhs  and  Old  Arsenal 
Remains  of  Intendaxt's  Palace 
At  ihe  Gate  of  Laval  University  . 
Buade  Street      ..... 
Heights  of  Abraham     .... 
Ovf.ri.ookino  St.  Charles  Valley 
OvERLOOKiNi;  North  Channel, 

From  Grand  Ilattery  anil  Laval   University 
Wolfe's  Monument         .... 
MARiELi.d  Tower,  on  the  Plains  of  Abraham 
House  to  which   Montgomery's  ISodv  was  Carri 
The  Citadel,  from  H.  M.  S    "Northampton" 
Quebec— A  Glimpse  from  the  Old  City  Wall 
View  from  the  Old  Manor  House  at  ncAUPORT 
Quebec,  from  Point  Li^-.vis 
Sous  Le  Cap         .... 
Looking  Up  fro.m  the  Wharves 

DUFFERIN   Tl'RRACE 

Custom  House      .... 

Gates  of  the  Citadel    . 

View  from  the  Citadel 

Monument  to  Wolfe  and  Montcalm 

Time-Hall,  from  the  Prince's  IVastion 

Wolfe's  Cove 

Kent  Gate  ..... 

St.  John's  Gate     .... 

St.  Louis  Gate      .... 

The  Rasilica,  from  Fabrique  Street 

Looking  Across  the  Esplanade  lo  Reaupori' 

Wayside  Cross,  and  Beauport  Church 

Falls  of  Montmorency 

Looking  Towards  Quebec,  from  Montmorency 

Montmorency  River  ahc)ve  Falls 

On  the  Road  to  Sillery 

Arx  ISuAVEs  .... 

CiiAiTER  Illustration 

Gathering  Marsh  Hay   . 

Loading  a  Batteau  at  Low  Tide 

Cap  Tourmente  and  Petit  Cap  . 

An  Old  Habitant  .  . 

Habitant  and  Snow-Shoes 

L'Anoe  Gardien     .... 


Arlist. 

Engraver. 

Page. 

.     L.  R.  O'Brien 

.    A.  Willmore  .      Frontispiece. 

.     L.   R    O'Britn 

.     N.  Orr  &  Co 

1 

.     L.   R.  O'Brien 

.     E.  Heinemann 

3 

.     L    R.  O'Brien 

.     J.  A.  Bogerl. 

6 

,     R.   Harris 

.     E.  Brighton    . 

8 

.     \V.  T.  Smedley 

.     W.  Mollier     . 

9 

.     F.  B.  Schell   . 

.     W.  R.  Bodenstab 

II 

.     F.  B.  Schell  . 

.     W.  R.  Bodenstab 

II 

.     F.   B.  Schell   . 

.     W.   R.   Bodenstab 

12 

.     F.   B.  Schell   . 

.     A.   Hayman    . 

U 

.     L.   R.   O'Brien 

.     A.   Hayman   . 

17 

.     L.   R.  O'Brien 

.     A.   Hayman    .         , 

17 

,     W.   T,  Smedley 

.     E.   Heinemann 

.        19 

.     F.   B.  Schell  . 

.     A.   Lockhardt 

32 

.     F.   B.  Schell  . 

.     T.  H.  Heard 

23 

.     F.  B.  Schell  . 

.     George  F.  Smith  . 

as 

.     T.   Morm 

.     W^    11.   Redding 

36 

.     F.   B.   Schell   . 

.     J.   E.  Sharp    . 

37 

.     F.   B.  Schell    . 

.     J.   E.  Sharp    . 

»7 

Ell 

.     G.   Gibson 

.     C.  J.   Warden 

38 

.     L.   R.  O'Brien 

.     R.  Varley      . 

32 

.     F.   B.  Schell 

Facing  33 

.     F.   B.   Schell  . 

.     Smithwiclc  &•  French     .         33 

.     L.    R.   O'Brien 

.     Smilhwick  &  French     .         35 

.     F.   B.   Schell  . 

.     T.  H.   Heard 

■        38 

.     F.  B.   Schell  . 

.      A.   Lockhardt 

39 

.     C.   E.   H.   Bonwill 

.     J.  T.  Speer     . 

.        40 

.     F.   B.  Schell  . 

.     N.  Orr  &  Co 

.        .        41 

.     L.  R    O'Brien 

.     C.  J.  Warden  . 

44 

.     F.  B.  Schell    . 

.    J.  \V.  Lauderbach 

45 

.     F.  B.  Schell    . 

.    J.  A.  Bogcrt     . 

.        .        46 

.     R.   Harris 

.     A.  H.ayman 

.        .        46 

.     L.  R,  O'Brien 

.    George  F.  Smith 

47 

.     F.  B.  Schell 

.    W.  Mollier       . 

•       •       49 

.     F.  B.  Schell    . 

.     W.  Mollier       . 

■       ■       49 

.     F.  B.  Schell    . 

.     J.  E.  Sharp       . 

.       .        so 

.     F.  B.  Schell    . 

.     N.  Orr  &  Co. 

•       •        51 

.     L.  R.  O'Brien 

.     E.  C.  Held 

52 

.     F.  B.  Schell    . 

.    A.  V.  S   Anthony 

55 

.     F.  B.  Schell    . 

.    Smithwick  &  Frenc 

1  Facing  57 

.     T.  Moran 

.    J.  A.  Bogert    . 

57 

.     G.  Gibson 

.    George  F.   Smith 

•        58 

.     L.  R.  O'Brien 

.    Juengling  &  Miller 

60 

.     F.  B.  Schell    . 

.     George  F  Smith 

61 

.    \V.  R.iphael    . 

.     C.  J.  Warden 

.       .       6» 

.    Vf.  T.  Smedley     . 

.    J.  Hellawcll      . 

.       .       63 

.     L.   R.  O'Brien 

.    F.  Levin 

.       .       63 

.     L.  R.  O'Brien 

.    T.  Hellawell    . 

.       .       64 

.    W.  Raphael 

.    S.  Davis    . 

.       .       65 

.    W.  Raphael 

.    Edith  Cooper  . 

.       67 

,    F.  B.  Schell 

.    T.  Hellawell    . 

.      67 

LIST  OF  JLLUSTRA  TIONS. 


French  Farms 

«  •         •         •         I 

Chateau  Richer   . 

•  •  •  •         • 

Wayside  Waierino  Trough    .... 

St.  Joachim 

On  the  Road  to  St.  Joachim  .  , 

A  Street  in  Chateau  Richfr 

Falls  of  Ste.  Anne 

An  Old  Orchard 

Falls  of  St.  FtR^,oL       .  .  .  '  ' 

Chapel  and  Grotto  at  Ste.  Anne  De  Beaupre 

Old  Houses  at  Point  L6vis     .... 

Falls  of  Lokkeite  ■  .  .  . 

Cap  Rouge  ..... 

Cape  Diamond,    from  ,Si-.  Romuald    . 
Light-Ship  on  the  .St.  Lawrence      . 
Half-Hreed  Fisherman  .... 

Interior  of  Parish  Church     .... 

Old  Chimney  and  Chateau     .... 

St.  Maurice  Forges  .... 

Orioinai.  Granite  Cupola,  Erected  adout  1735     . 
Falls  of  the  CiiAUDifeRE,  near  Quebec 
Shawen'aoan  Falls         •  .  .  .  . 

Head  of  Shawen.\gax  Falls    .... 

Little  Shawenagan  Falls       .... 

A  Glimpse  from  the  Mountain 

In  Cote  de  Neiges  Cemetery  ... 

l'escalier  ...... 

Commissioner's  Wharf,  and  Bonsecours  Market 
BoNSF.couRs  Church       .... 

Market  Scenes  in  Jacques  Cartikr  Square  \ 

McC.iiL  Sireet      ..... 

Mountain  Drive  ..... 

Montreal,  from  the  Mountain 

The  Longueuil  Ferry    .... 

Montreal,  from  St.  Helen's  Island  ,  ',  ' 

The  Island  Park  ■  ■  .  .  , 

Oi.D  Batteky,  St.  Helen's  Island      .  .  \  . 

The  Champ  he  Mars 

*  •  •  •  • 

Oi.D  Presp.ytlrian  Church 

From  the  Towers  of  Notre  Dame    .  .  ',  . 

Entrance  to  Notre  Dame       ■  .  .  .  . 

Pulpit  of  Notre  Dame  .... 

In  the  Chapel  of  Grey  Nunnery 

Gateway  of  the  Seminary  of  St.  Sui.pice  . 

Cnv  Hall,  and  Nelson's  Monument 

Ancient  Towers  at  Montreal  College 

Christ  Church  Cathedral,  from  Phillips'  Square 

Steamer    Passing    Locks,     and    Unloading     Ships    hy 

Electric  Light 
Transferring  Freight  dy  Electric  Light 
Montreal   Harbour        .... 
Montreal  Winter  Scenes 
NoTRK  Dame    from  St.  Urbain  .Street 
In  St.  Gabriel  Street    .... 
Wood  Barges        ... 
Mail  .Steamer  Passing  Under  Victoria  Bridge 
Unloading  Hay  Barges 


Artist. 
,    T.  Moran 
.     L.  R.  O'Brien 
.     L.  R.  O'Brien 
.    L.  R.  O'Brien 
.    L.  R.  O'Brien 
.     L.  R.  O'Brien 
.     F.   B  Schell 
.    T.  .Moran 
.     F.  B.  Schell  . 
.     L.   R.  O'Brien 
.     J.  We.slon 
.     L.   R.  O'Brien 
,     L.  R.  O'Brien 
,     L.  R.  O'Brien 
,     L.  R.  O'Brien 
,     W.    RaplLiel  . 
H.   A.  Ogdcn 
L.    R.  O'Brien 
,     L.    R.  O'Brien 
L.   K.  O'Brien 
.     L.  R.  O'Brien 
L.  R.  O'Brien 
.     L.  R.  O'Brien 
L.  R.  O'Brii-n 
F.  B.  Schell 
F.  B.  Schell  . 
F.  B.  Schell 
F.  B.  .Schell 
F.   B.  Schell  . 
Schell  &  Hogan 
W.  T.  Smedley 
T.  Moran 
F.   B.  Schell 
Schell  &   Hogan 
F.   B.  .Schell   . 
F.   B.  Schell 
L.   R.  O'Brien 
F.   B.  .Schell 
F.   li.  Schell  . 
F.   B.  Schell  . 
W,   T.  Smedley 
W.   T.  Smedley 
W.    T,  Smedley 
W.  T.  Smedley 
F.  B.  Schell 
F.  B.  .Schell 
F    B.  Schell 

F.  B.  Schell  . 
Schell  &  Hogan 
Schell  &  Hogan 
F.  B.  Schell 
F.  B.  Schell  . 
.Schell  &  Hogan 
-Schell  &  Hogan 
F.  B.  Schell 
.Schell  &   Hogan 


Engraver, 
.     E.  C.  Held     . 
.     H.  E.  .SchulU 

F.   Ilrjgdcn 
.     J.  Clement 
.     Smilhwick  &  French 
.     J.  Karst 
.     H.  Gray  . 
.     C.  J.  Warden 
.     J.   llellawcll     . 
.     A.  Lockhardt . 
J.  E.  Sharp 
T.   Johnson 
Juengling  &   Mille 
C.  Schwarzburger 
R.    \'arley 
George  A.   Bogert 
O.  C.  Wigand 
A.  Hayman 
E.   Heinemann 
E.  Heinemann 
C.  Ciillen 
R.  Schelling    , 
J.  T.  Speer     , 
T,  Johnson 
C.  J,  Warden 
C.  J.  Warden 
J.  E.  Sharp     . 
C.  Schwarzburger 
C.  Schwarzburger 
J.  Filmer 

Juengling  &  Miller 
Juengling  &  Miller 
W.    H.  Redding      /vi 
George  V.  Snuth 
J.  T.  Speer     . 
J.  T.  Speer 
A.  Lockhardt 
W.   Mollier      . 
W.   .Mollier      . 
F.  Levin 
R.  A.  Muller 
A,   Hayman 
W,   II.   Redding 
W.   11.   Redding 
K.  C.    Held     . 
W.   R.   Bodenstab 


N.  Orr  &  Co. 


Pagl. 
69 
71 
74 
76 
.78 

79 

I'liciiii;  81 

81 

•  83 
86 
87 
90 
91 
91 

•  93 
93 

•  95 
96 

97 
97 

99 

100 
101 
102 
104 
104 

.  105 
107 

.  107 
108 

\<X) 

"j 

'".<,'   I '5 

115 

.       116 

116 

117 

.       119 

.       119 

120 

122 

•  >23 
125 

•  "25 

126 
127 
.    129 


R.   Varley        ...  131 

J.   I'.  D.ivis       .  .  ,34 

N.  Orr  &  Co.  Facing  135 

J.   W.  Lauderbach  135 

N.  Or,'  &  Co  .  136 

George  F.  Smith    .        .  137 

W.   H.  Redding       .  138 

J.   R.  Gtraty    ...  140 

J.   Hellawell     ...  141 


Pag,. 
69 
71 
74 
76 
78 
79 

"A'  81 
81 

83 
86 
87 
90 

9' 
9> 
93 
93 
95 
96 
97 
97 

99 

100 
loi 
102 
104 
104 
105 
107 
107 
108 
109 
"3 
■'5 
■15 
116 
116 
117 

"9 
119 
120 
122 
'23 
'25 
■25 
126 
127 
129 

>3i 
'34 
135 
'35 
'36 
'37 
'38 
140 

'4' 


QUEBEC. 

msrijKicAL  KKv  I  i;\v. 

/'^UK  work  buj^ins  with  (jucbc".  Riirhtly  so.  Caiuula  has  not  much  of  a  past,  but 
^^  all  that  it  has  from  Jacques  Cartier's  day  clusters  rouiul  that  cannon-ifirt  promon- 
tory;  not  much  of  a  present,  but  in  takini,^  stock  of  national  outfit,  Quebec  shuuUl 
count  for  somethiiiLj; — indei'd,  woukl  count  with  any  pi,'0[)le.  We  ha\e  a  future,  and 
with  it  that  j^reat  ri^d  rock  ami  the  retl-cross  llai;  that  lloats  over  it  are  inseparably 
i)()und  up. 

The  jrlowinjT  paijes  of  Parkman  reveal  how  much  can  be  made  of  our  past.  A  son 
of  the  soil  like  Le  Moint:,  who  has  an  hereilitary  riji^ht  to  be  animated  by  the  i^ruiiis 
loci,  whose  Hoswell-like  conscientiousness  in  chronicling  everjthiu}^  connected  with  the 
sacred  spot  deserves  all  honourable  mention,  ina\'  t'xatjirerate  the  importance  of  the  city 
and  the  couiurv,  its  past  and  its  [)resent.  Hut  truer  far  his  e.xtreme — if  e.xtreme  it  be — than 
X'oltaire's  or  La  Pompadour's,  and  their  successors'  in  our  own  day.  The  former  tiiouL;iit 
i'  ranee  well  rid  of  "  tiftec'ii  thousand  acres  of  snow,"  with  an  appreciation  of  the  subject 
lik(?  unto  his  estimate  of  those  "Jiii/s  iiiiscrabhs"  about  whose  literature  the  world  was 
not  likel\-  to  trouble  itself  much  Ioniser  when  it  could  yet  the  writings  of  the  b'rench 
I'liilosoplics  instead.  The  latter  heartily  a,i;ri'ed  with  him,  for — with  Montcalm  dead — 
"at  last  the  KinLj  will  have  a  chance  of  sleepinjj  in  peace."  To  us  it  seems  that  the 
port  which  for  a  century  and  a  half  was  the  head-quarters  of  France  in  the  New  W'orkl, 
the  door  by  which  she  entered  antl   which  could  be  closed  aijainst  all  others,   the    centre 

from  which  slie  .limed  at  the  conipiest  of  a  xiryin  continent  of  altogether  unknown  extent, 
1 


QUEBEC. 


and  from  whidi  licr  adventurous  chililrcii  set  forlli  loii_i,'-r()lH'd  missionaries  leading  the 
way,  trappers  and  soldiers  t'ollowinj^-  -until  they  iiail  estal)lislu'd  tliemselves  at  every 
strale,L;ie  point  on  tile  St.  l>a\vrence,  tin:  (Ireat  Lakes,  tiie  ( )liio,  and  tile  Mississippi 
from  tile  l\ills  of  St.  .Antliony  to  New  Orleans,  must  always  liavi:  historical  and  poetic 
significance.  The  city  and  the  Province  whicii  for  the  next  hundred  and  twenty  years 
have  remained  l'"ri:ncii  in  appearance  and  l'"rench  to  the  core,  yet  have  fon.L;ht  repeatedly 
and  are  ready  to  tij^lit  a<;ain  side  liy  sidt'  witli  the  red-coats  of  Cireat  Britain  —the  best 
proof  surely  that  men  can  .^dve  of  loyal  iillegiance ;— which  preserve  old  Norman  and 
iireton  customs  and  traits,  and  modes  of  thought  and  faith  that  the  Revolution  has 
sulMiv.'r<.jed  in  the  France  of  their  fore-fathers,  fondly  nursing;  tlu'  seventi'enth  century  in 
the  lap  of  the  nineteenth,  must,  perhaps  beyond  any  other  spot  in  North  America,  have 
ail  interest  for  the  artist  and  the  statesman. 

In  the  sixteenth  century  the  gallant  l-'rancis  1.  made  seven  attempts  to  L;iv('  iMance 
a  share  in  that  wonderful  New  World  which  Columbus  hail  disclosetl  lo  an  unbelie\inL; 
generation,  but  like  his  attempt  In  other  ilirections  they  came  to  nothing.  In  I5;i5  he 
put  three  little  vessels  under  the  orders  of  Jaccpies  Cartier,  a  skilful  na\  ii^alor.  a  i)ious 
and  bravt;  man.  well  worthy  of  the  patent  of  nobility  which  h(r  afterwards  received,  instrucl- 
ini;  him  to  proceed  \\\i  the  broad  water-way  he  had  discovered  the  year  befon-,  until  he 
reached  the  Indies.  His  duties  were  to  win  new  realms  for  Mother  Church,  as  a 
compensation  for  those  she  was  losing  through  Lutheran  and  Calvinistic  heresies,  and  to 
bring  back  his  schooners  fidl  of  yellow  goKl  ami  rosy  pearls.  Thus  would  his  labour^ 
redound  to  the  glory  of  God  and  the  good  of  I'" ranee.  Jacipies  Cartier  crossed  the 
ocean  and  sailed  up  the  magniticent  water-way,  piously  giving  to  it  the  name  ol  the  saint 
on  whose  fete-day  he  had  hrst  entered  its  wide-extinded  portals.  l"or  hundreds  ol  miles 
the  river  kejjt  its  great  breadth,  more  like  a  sea  than  a  river,  till  the  huge  bluff  of 
Quebc'c,  seen  from  afar,  appeared  to  close  it  abruptly  against  farther  advance.  \\\  means 
of  this  bluff  thrust  into  the  stream  and  the  opposite  point  of  Levis  stretching  out  lo  meet 
it,  the  view  is  actually  narrowed  to  three  (juarters  of  a  mile.  Coasting  ii|)  between  the 
north  shore  and  a  large  beautiful  island,  he  came,  on  the  r.itli  of  September,  to  the 
mouth  of  a  little  tributary,  which  he  called  the  Ste.  Croix,  from  the  fete  celebrated  on 
that  day.  Hen-  he  cast  anchor,  for  now  Ine  time  had  come  to  land  .md  make  iiupiiries. 
It  needed  no  pr()|ihet  to  tell  that  the  power  which  held  that  dark  red  blul'f  would  liokl  the 
kev  to  the  country  beyond.  Tht-  natives,  with  their  chief  1  )onnac()na,  jiaddled  out  in 
their  birch-bark  canoes  to  gaze  upon  the  strange  visitants  who  had— in  great  white-wingc-d 
castles — surely  swooped  down  upon  them  from  another  world.  Cartier  treated  them  kindly. 
They  willingly  guided  him  through  the  primeval  forest  to  their  town  on  the  banks  of 
the  little  river,  and  to  the  summit  of  the  rock  under  the  shadow  of  whicli  they  had  built 
their  wigwams.  What  a  landscape  for  an  exjilorer  to  ga/e  upon  !  Shore  and  forest  bathed 
in   the   mellow  light   of    the  September  sun    for    fort)    miles  up   and    down    both    sides    ol 


T 


QUHIiJiC. 


3 


tlif  glorious  stream !  Wcaltli  <ii()iii,rli  there  to  satisfy  excn  a  kind's  pilot  ami  captain- 
jrcncral.  Ik-tween  the  suinniit  and  the  river  far  heh)w  he  may  have  seen  amiil  the  shite 
th(!  jjlitter  of  the  quartz  crystals  from  which  the  rock  afterwards  received  its  name  of 
Cape  Diamond.  Certainly,  on  his  next  voya},re  he  gathered  specimens  from  Cap  Koiij^c. 
iUit  the  Ljreat  attraction  must  have  been  the  river  itself,  llowinjf  past  with  the  tribute  of 
an  unknown  (ontinent.  its  i^rctn  waters  swept  round  the  feet  of  tiie  mii^lity  Cape,  lie 
could  cast  a  stoiK,'  into  the  current,  for  at  hi^^h  tide  it  rolleil  rijjjht  u[)  to  the  base  of  the 
rock.  Tile  n.irrow  strip  of  land  that  now  e.xtentls  betwei'n  rock  and  ri\er,  crowdeil  witii 
tile  houses  of  Ciiamplain  .Street,  was  not  there  tiien.  The  stnnd  has  i)een  won  from  tiie 
waters  and   the   rock   l)y  man.  wiiose  >;reed   for  Janii  e\en  the  boundless  .spaces  of  the  Xew 


■4? 


AKK1\AI.  UK  JAtgUllS  CAUril  U  W  SIADACONA. 

World  cannot  satislw  The  s^round  tiiat  slojied  down  to  the  .Ste.  Croix,  at  the  mouth  of 
which  his  vessels  la\'  at  anchor,  was  covered  witii  the  tinest  hard-wt)od  trees — walnuts,  oaks, 
elms,  ashes,  and  maples — and  amon^;  thesi'  the  hark-cibins  oi  Donnacona's  tribe  could  be 
seen.  i'hey  called  their  town  Stadacon.i.  To  this  da\  no  name  is  more  popular  with  the 
people  ol  Ouebec.  Any  new  enterjirise  that  may  be  projected,  from  a  skating-rink  to 
a  bank  or  steamship  conqjany,  prefers  .Stadacona  to  any  other  name. 

.All  the  way  down  to  Cap  Toiirmcnte  and  round  the  horizon  formed  by  the  fir-clothcd 
sinnmits  of  the  Lanrentides  that  enclosed  tlu'  wide-e.\tended-landscape,  an  utdjroken  forest 
ran^^ed.  The  picture,  seen  from  the  Citadel  on  Cape  Diamond  to-day,  is  as  fair  as  the 
eye  can  desire  to  see.  The  sun  shines  on  the  olitteriniL,'  roofs  of  (hiebec,  and  the 
continuous    villaiL^c  ol    clean    white   houses  extending;  miles    down   to  the    white    riband   of 


QunnEC. 


Monlmorciuy,  and  on  inillivati:il  liijlils  niniiiiijj;  ii|)  into  still  imhrokcii  \vil(lcrm:ss,  and 
on  llic  hroail  rivt-r  liasin  isnclosin^  the  island,  in  liic  lorcst  L;ladi's  of  wliiili  wild  ^rapi's 
j,frc\v  so  liixurianlh  that  CartitT  enthusiastically  called  it  Isle  of  Hacciiiis.  liiit  liicn 
it  was  in  all  its  virf^in  ^lory,  and  Cartier's  soul  swellcil  with  the  emotions  of  a  discoxcrer, 
with  exidtation  and  hoiindless  h(i|ic.  I  )id  it  not  iHlonj;  to  him,  did  it  not  almost  owe 
its  existence  to  him  ?     And  he  was  ;;ivinj,j  it  all  to  (iod  and  to   !•' ranee, 

Donnacona  told  the;  stranjjers  of  a  I'.n  j^reater  town  than  his,  many  days'  journey 
up  the  river.  So  Cartier  placed  his  two  larjjjest  vessels  within  the  mouth  of  tin;  Ste, 
Croix,  or  the  St.  Charles,  as  the  Kecollets  calleil  it  in  the  next  cenliu")',  anil  pursued  his 
way,  overcomin),f  the  obstacles  of  .St.  Peter's  I.ake,  to  llochelaj^a.  The  natives  there 
received  him  as  if  he  were  a  i;(h1,  hrinijinn  lish  and  corn-cakes,  and  tiirowini.;  th<'m  into 
the  l)oats  in  such  profusion  that  the)'  sec  nicil  to  lall  throuL;!)  tiu-  air  like  rain  or  snow. 
Cartier  coidd  not  help  fallini^  in  love  with  the  countr)-.  liu'  palisaded  town  nestliiiL;  under 
the  shadow  of  .Mount  Roval  was  surrouniled  1)_\  fertile  liilds.  .\nlumn  showered  its 
crimson  antl  jjold  on  the  forests,  tiirninj.^  the  luoiuilain  into  an  immense  pictiuu'  suspended 
hii;h  in  air,  jjlowinj^  with  a  wealth  of  colour  that  no  European  painter  woidd  dare 
to  |)ut  on  canva.s.  The  river  swept  on,  two  miles  wide,  with  a  conijueriniLj  force  that 
indicated  vast  distances  lieyonii,  new^  realms  waitinj^  to  he  iliscoNcred.  .\11  the  wa\-  hack 
to  (_)u(l)ec  the  niar\ellous  tints  of  tile  forest,  and  the  sweet  air  and  rich  sunsets  of  a 
Canadian  autumn  accompanied  the  iiappy  I'Venchnien.  1  lad  the_\-  now  turned  their  prows 
homewartl,  wiiat  pictures  of  the  new  country  would  they  ha\c  held  u|)  to  wonderint; 
listeners!  Nothinij;  could  ha\(!  pre\cnted  I'rance  from  |)recipitalinL;'  itself  at  once  u|ion 
Canada.  But  the  natives,  accustomed  to  the  winters,  uttered  no  note  of  warnintj  to  liie 
stranijers,  antl  therefore,  althouL,di  Cartier  rejoined  his  comr.ules  at  Quebec  on  the  iith 
of  October,  he  delayed  till  the  ice-kinj,^  issued  his  " nc  exeat."  Ihen  he  and  they  soon 
learned  that  the  Ljolden  shield  had  another  side. 

To  Canadians,  winter  is  simply  one  of  the  four  s('asons.  The  summer  and  autunui 
suns  ripen  all  the  crops  that  i^^row  in  Enjj;land  or  the  north  of  l'"r,ince,  and  in  no  tem- 
perate climate  is  mortt  than  one  crop  a  year  expected.  Tiii'  frost  and  snow  of  winter  are 
hailed  in  their  turn,  not  onl)-  as  useful  friends  but  as  minist<'rs  to  almost  all  the  amuse- 
ments of  the  year — the  skn'^diinj;,  skatinjr,  snow-shoeing,  icc-boaling,  tobogganning  that 
both  sexes  and  all  classes  delight  in.  The  frost  does  much  of  our  subsoil  ploughing. 
Snow  is  not  onl)-  the  best  possible  niidch,  shading  and  protecting  the  soil  at  no  cost,  but 
its  manurial  value  gives  it  the  name  of  "the  poor  man's  manure."  The  ice  bridges  our 
lakes  and  rixi.'rs.  .A  good  snow-fall  means  roatls  without  the  trouiile  of  road-making, 
not  only  to  kirk  and  niark(.'t,  but  through  thick  woods,  over  cradle-hills,  and  awa)-  into 
tile  lumber  regions.  An  insufficient  supply  of  snow  and  ice  is  a  national  calamit)-  ;  and 
excess  can  never  be  so  bad  as  tin-  ])all  that  covers  l^ngland  antl  .Scotland  half  the  \ear 
and  makes  the  people  "  take   their  pleasures  sadly." 


QVEIiEC, 


i 


Mill,  wf  arc  prepared  for  winter.  Jaccpies  Carti»;r  was  not,  ami  vi'ry  lu-avily  its  hami 
fell  minn  liiin,  as  ii  did  subseciuently  on  Cliamplain  when  In;  first  wintered  at  (Jucbec. 
ilow  heavily,  we  are  in  a  position  to  estimate  from  roadinj,'  tlu;  harrowinj,^  descriptions 
of  the  suffcrin),fs  endured  by  the  people  of  London  in  January  iSSi,  in  consuquonci;  of 
a  snow-fall  of  some  twelve  inche's.  One  periodical  describes  the  scene  under  the  title  of 
"  Moscow  in  London,"  and  soberly  asserts  that  "  to  have  lived  in  London  on  Tuesday, 
the  iSth  January,  i.SSi,  and  to  have  survived  the  (  xperience,  is  something  which  any  man 
is  justified  in  remembering,  and  which  ought  to  justify  occasional  boasting  of  the  fact," 
Another  declares  that  a  few  more  such  snow-storms  would  "  render  our  life  and  civilization 
impossible;"  that  in  such  a  case  there  could  be  only  "an  I';s(|uimau.\  life,  not  an  I-lnglish 
life;"  that  "a  transformation  of  the  rain  into  thl'se  soft  white  crystals  which  at  first  sight 
seem  so  mmh  less  aggressive  than  rain  is  all  that  is  needed  to  destroy  the  whole  struc- 
ture of  our  communications,  whether  in  the  way  of  railway,  telegraph,  or  literature;" 
anil  sadly  moralises  over  the  fact  that  this  is  sure  to  come  about  in  time  from  the  pre- 
cession of  the  e(|uinoxes.  Mathos  such  as  this  indicates  fairly  enough  the  wonderful 
ignorance  of  the  facts  and  conditions  of  Canadian  life  that  reigns  supreme  in  educated 
l^nglish  circles.  Canadians  fancy  that  their  civilization  is  English.  Those  of  us  who  are 
practically  nc(|uaint(-d  with  the  conditions  of  life  in  Lngland  are  pretty  well  .igreed  that 
where  there  ,\<--  'wiints  of  difference  the  advantage  is  on  our  side.  Not  one  man  in  a 
thousanti  in  Canada  wears  a  fur  coat,  or  an  overcoat  of  any  kind  iiea\  ier  than  hi;  would 
have  to  wear  in  the  mother  country.  We  have  ice-houses,  but  do  not  live  in  them.  Society 
shows  no  signs  of  approximating  to  the  lisquimau.x  type.  We  skim  over  the  snow  more 
rapidly  than  a  four-in-hand  can  travel  in  luigland  when  the  best  highway  is  at  its  best. 
A  simple  contrivance  calli'd  a  snow-plough  clears  the  railway  track  for  the  trains,  tossing 
the  snow  to  the  right  and  left  as  triumphantly  as  a  ship  tosses  the  spray  from  its  bows. 
We  telegraph  and  telephoiu-,  use  cabs  and  busses,  and  get  our  mails — from  Halifax  to 
Sarnia — witli  "proofs"  ,ind  parcels  about  as  regularly  in  winter  as  in  summer.  Incredible 
as  all  this  must  souiul  to  those  who  have  shivered  under  the  power  of  one  snow-storm 
ami  a  few  degrees  of  frost,  there  is  a  certain  humiliation  to  a  Canadian  in  describing 
what  is  so  entirely  a  matter  of  course.  He  is  kept  from  overmuch  wonder  by  remembering 
that  the  people  of  Western  Canada,  in  spite  of  jiractical  acquaintance  with  snow-ploughs, 
opposed  for  years  the  construction  of  the  Litercolonial  Railway  because  they  strenuously 
maintained  that  it  would  be  blocked  up  all  the  winter  with  ice  and  snow. 

We  are  accustomed  to  our  environment.  Cartier's  men  were  not ;  and  reference  has 
been  made  to  rt^cent  experiences  in  England  to  help  us  to  understand  what  horrors  those 
poor  fellows  from  sunny  I'Vance  endured  throughout  an  apparently  endless  winter,  cooped 
up  ill  the  coldest  spot  in  all  Canada.  "  b'rom  the  middle  of  November  to  the  i8th  of  April 
the  ice  and  snow  shut  us  in,"  says  their  captain.  Ice  increased  upon  ice.  Snow  fell 
upon  snow.       file  great  river  that   no  power  known  to  man  could  fetter,  was  bound  fast. 


f-l  - 


r* 


6  (jU/iPI-C. 

livi-rylhin^'  fro/c.  The  lucaili  ili.ii  (;unc  finm  ilicir  mniiilis.  llic  vci)  Mood  in  their 
veins,  sfcimd  to  tnczc.  Nij^iit  iiiul  (la\  lluir  liml)s  witc  luniimhcii.  I'hiik  itc  lormcti 
on  tile  siilcs  ol  tin  ir  sliips,  on  ilciks,  masts,  lonl.ij^i',  on  fv<T\ tliin^^  to  wliiili  inoisturr 
attaclifil  itscll.  Snow  wrratiutl  and  i  nrlcil  in  at  cvrry  crtrvicc,  Tivcr)'  lice  liad  its  loacl. 
A  wa!l<  in  tJK  wcods  was  an  impossibility,  and  tlierc  was  nowiicn'  else  to  wail<.  C'oiirmcil 
within   lluir  n.'iTow  domain,  and   livini;  on    s.dtcd    food,  scurvy  soi/cd   upon    the    liclplcss 


IKllMI'H    <ll       IHI      S.NOW-n.liLiai. 


prisoners.  \\  iiat  was  to  lie  done?  (.artier  iiad  recourse  to  lieaxcn,  receiving,  li<)'.\('\cr. 
the  same  minimum  of  praclieai  answer  tlial  was  t;iven  ii\  I  l<'rc  iii<s  to  .V'.sop's  wa,L^i;nn(r. 
A  modern  writer  of  serupnlous  accurac)'  describes  naively  the  a|i|)eal  and  its  bootlessness : 
"  When  eii;ht  were  dead  and  more  than  liftv  in  a  helpless  stale,  Cartier  ordired  a  soKinn 
r<?lij^ious  act  wiiich  was,  as  it  were,  the  first  public  exercise  of  the  Catholic  religion  in  Can- 
ada,  and  the  ori<,nn  of  those  |)r()cessions  and  pilgrimages  which  have  since  Ix-en  made  in 
honour  of  Mary,  to  claim  her  intercession  with  Cnn\  in  great  calamities.  Seeing  that  the 
disease  had  made  such  frightful  ravages  he  set  his  crew  to  [irayer,  and  made  tliem  carry 
an  image  or  statue  of  the  X'irgin  Mary  over  the  snow  and  ice.  and  caused  it  to  lie  placed 
against  a  tree  about  an  arrow's  llight  away  from  the  fort,  lie  also  commanded  that  on 
the  following  Suiidas  mass  should  be  sung  in  that  |ilace  and  before  that  image,  and  that 
all  those  who  wen-  able  to  w.ilk,  whether  well  or  ill,  should  go  in  the  procession— 
'singing  the  seven  iienitential  I'salms  of  I)a\id.  with  the  l.itany.  pra\ing  the  X'irgin  to 
entreat    her    dear    Son     to    h.ive     pity    u])on     us,'"     On    that    da\'   mass    w.is    <-elebr,ite{l 


I 


(jr/ji/ic. 


IicIdil'  llii:  iiuii^f  of  Mar)',  cvi'ii  ili.int(;il,  larliur  U;lls  us;  apiianiul)  tlic  lirsl  (iitasii)n 
»)l  a  \\\)i\\  mass  in  Canada.  At  the  same  time;  Cartii!r  ^'avo  anotlur  spt-cial  proof  of  his 
vivid  ant!  lender  trust  in  Mar)'  promisinj,'  to  mai\i;  a  pil^'rimu^c  in  licr  lionour  to  K()(iur- 
madour,  should  lie  lie  spared  to  return  to  I'Varicc.  "  NevertheU'ss,  liiat  very  day,  I'hilip 
Uoii),ri!mont,  .1  M.itive  of  ,\nii)oise,  twenty  years  old,  died  ;  and  the  chsease  heeame  so 
),f(  neral  that  of  all  who  were  in  tiie  three  siiips  there  w<Te  not  tliree  uiilouclieii,  and  in 
one  of  tiu'  sliips  tiiere  was  not  one  man  who  coulil  j(o  into  llie  lioKl  to  draw  water  for 
himself  or  ihe  otlu'rs."  Despair  fell  upon  the  poor  wretches.  'Ihey  \^n\i-  up  hope  of 
evi;r  seeiui;  I'ranie  a^^'ain.  C'artii.T  alone  tlid  not  ilespair,  and  the  dawn  followed  the 
darkest  hour.  One;  of  the  Inilians  toKl  him  of  "the  most  I'.xtpiisite  renud)'  that  ever 
was,"  a  decoction  (()Mi|>oscd  ol  the  leaves  and  hark  of  the  white  spruce,  lie  administered 
the  medicine  without  stint,  ,ind  in  eii;ht  da)s  the  sick  wen-  restored  to  health.  .Anil  now 
the  lon^  (  ruel  \\int<'r  won:  away.  The  ic\-  fetters  relaxed  their  i,'rip  of  l.iml  and  river. 
I'nder  w.uiu  .April  suns  the  sap  rose,  thrilling  the  dead  trees  into  life.  .Amid  the  meltinjj 
snow,  j;reen  grasses  and  dainty  star-like  flowers  s|)ran),r  up  as  freely  as  in  a  hot-house. 
C'artier  prepared  to  depart,  first  taking  possession  of  Canaila,  however,  h)-  planting  in 
the  fort  "a  beautiful  cross"  thirty-live  feet  high,  with  the  arms  of  I'ranci;  emhossed  on 
the  cross-piece,  iiul  this  inscription,  "  Fruiiiiscis  /'riiiiiis,  /h/  x''<'^'<'<  Fidiicoyum  rex, 
rcffiiit/."  I  hell,  tre.u'herously  luiing  !)onnacona  on  hoard  ship,  that  he  might  present  the 
King  of  Stadacona  to  the  King  of  I'Vance,  he  set  ;  lil  for  .St.  Malo.  Nothing  came  of 
this,  the  second  \())age  of  Carfier,  ami  little  wouiler.  What  advant.ages  diii  Canada 
offi'r  to  induce  men  to  leave  home!  What  tales  coulil  the  travellers  tell  save  of  black 
forests,  deep  snow,  thick  ice,  starving  Indians,  and  all-devouring  scurvy!  lUit  C'artier 
was  not  discouraged,  and  six  years  afterwards  I*'rancis  resolved  to  try  again.  Roberval 
was  commissioniil  to  found  a  permanent  settlement.  He  .sent  C'artier  ahead  and  Cartier 
tried  .it  Cip  Rouge,  above  Quebec,  the  Indians  of  Stadacona  naturally  enough  not  making 
him  welcome,  iiut  the  experiment  did  not  succeed.  The  time  had  not  come.  Nearly  a 
century  was  to  pass  away  l>efore  the  true  father  of  New  h" ranee  -  the  founder  of  Ouehec — 
would  appi'ar. 

On  the  ;id  of  July,  i6o,S,  Samuel  de  Champlain  planted  the  white  flag  of  France 
on  the  site  of  (  Uiebec.  The  old  village  of  Stadacona  had  disappeared,  and  there  was  no 
OIK!  to  dispute  possession  with  the  new  comers.  With  characteristic  jji-omptitude  Cham- 
plain  .set  his  men  to  work  to  cut  down  trees  and  saw  them  into  lumber  for  building,  to 
>lig  drains  and  ditches,  to  pull  up  the  wild  grape-vines  which  abounded,  to  prepare  the 
ground  for  g.irden  seeds,  or  to  attend  to  the  commissariat,  i'.very  one  had  his  work  to 
do.  'Plu;  winter  tried  him  as  it  had  tried  L  artier.  The  dreaded  scurvy  attacked  his 
followers.  Out  of  twenty-eight  only  eight  survived,  and  these  were  disfigured  with  its 
fell  marks,  '{"he  next  year  he  decided  to  ally  himself  with  the  .Algoncpiins  and  llurons 
ag.iinst  the    I'"i\e   Nations.      It   may  luuf   been    im|iossible   for   him   to   ha\c   remained   neu- 


8 


QUEBEC. 


tral,  though  the  example  of  the  Dutch  at  Albany  indicates  that  it  was  possible.  Certainly 
the  step  plunged  the  infant  colony  into  a  sea  of  troubles  for  a  centur)-.  It  took  the 
sword  and  was  again  and  again  on  the  point  of  perishing  by  the  tomahawk. 

This  man  Champlain,  soldier,  sailor,  engineer,  geographer,  naturalist,  statesman,  with 
the  heart  and  soul  of  a  hero,  was  the  founder  of  New  I'rance.  He  had  gaineil  distinc- 
tion in  the  wars  of  the  League  ;    in  the  West  Indies    he    first  jiroposed    that   ship   canal 

across  ihe  Isthmus  of  I'anama  which  another 
Frenchman — as  uncon(|uerable  as  he — is 
probably  destined  to  construct ;  and  sub- 
sequently he  had  spent  years  exploring  and 
attempting  settlements  around  the  rugged 
Atlantic  shores  of  Acadie  and  Nt:w  Mngland. 
From  the  day  that  he  planted  the  lilies  of 
France  at  the  foot  of  Cape  Diamond  to 
the  day  of  his  death,  on  Christmas,  1635, 
he  devoted  himself  to  the  infant  colony, 
lived  for  it  and  kept  it  alive,  in  sj)ite  of 
enemies  at  home  and  abroad,  and  dis- 
couragements enough  to  have  shaken  an\ 
resolve  but  that  of  courage  founded  upon 
faith.  Right  under  the  beetling  cliff,  be- 
tween the  present  Champlain  Market  and 
the  cpiaint  old-church  of  Notre  Dame  des 
Victoires,  Champlain  determined  to  build 
his  city.  His  first  work  was  to  prepare 
the  ground  for  garden  seeds,  and  wheat 
and  rye.  He  saw  from  the  first,  what  he 
never  could  get  any  one  else  in  authority 
to  see,  that  the  existence  of  the  colony,  as 
anything  more  than  a  temporary  fur-tr.uling 
post,  depended  on  its  being  able  to  raise  its 
own  food.  The  Company  with  which  lie 
was  associated  could  not  see  this,  because  they  had  gone  into  the  enterprise  with  very 
different  motives  from  those  that  animated  Cham|)lain.  When  we  have  no  (l"sire  to  see, 
we  put  the  telescope  to  our  blind  eye  and  declare  that  there  is  nothing  to  be  seen. 
Every  creature  acts  according  to  it.;  instincts,  and  to  the  rule  fur-trading  com])anies  an- 
no exception.  Give  them  a  monopoly  and  instinct  becomes  consecrated  by  laws 
human  and  Divine.  The  welfare  of  the  Company  becomes  the  supreme  law.  y\t  the 
beginning  of    this   century  the    North-VV^est  Company  thought   it    right   to   stamp  out    in 


CnA.\II'l,.\IN. 


OUIUU'IC. 


iNOTKK    JAM1-.    I)i;S   VK  roiKi.s. 
Site  i)f  Original  City. 

blood  and  fin;  tlic  patriotic  efforts  to  colonize 
Assiniljoia  made  Jjy  a  Scottisii  nnhlcman,  wiio 
lived  half  a  century  before  Ills  liim;.  Subsc- 
cuientlv  the  two  hundred  and  si\t\-eijrht  share- 


holtU 


)f  the   lludson's    l!av    C 


()iiii);'.n\' 


felt 


justilit 


eepmi 


half 


a    continent    as  a 


preserve  for    Imtfalo  and    heaver.       llow  could   better  thini^s    be    expectetl    in    the    se\cn- 

)f   De   Chastes    ir   1  )e   Monls,   the   nicichaiits  of  St. 


teentli  ceiUiny  honi    tlie    inonopohcs  t 


Mi 


Rouen,    I  )ieppe,  i.a    Rochelle 


even    from   the    Company  of    the  One    lli 


1   one    am 


d 
I   all. 


Associates  oryani/.ed  by  Richelieu  ?  Tnulin^  interests  were  supreme  wit 
Those  who  cl.imourt;d  for  free  trade  chimoured  only  for  a  share  of  the  monopoly.  The 
empire  is  perpetually  at  war,  and  the  soldier  gets  the  blame,  perhaps  the  ;iristocracy, 
should  Mr.  Hrit^^ht  be  the  si)e;iker ;  but  the  real  cul])rit  is  the  trader.  Our  jealousy 
of  Russia  ami  our   little  wars    all    the    worUl    over   luive    trade    interests   as    their   source 


:r 


lO 


QUEBEC. 


iind  inspiration.  In  the  seventeenth  century,  Canadian  trad^'  meant  supplies  to  the 
Iniiians  in  e.\chany;e  for  peltries,  and  money  spent  on  anythiiiL;  else  seemed  to  the 
One   Hundred  Associates  ami  tiieir  servants  money  thrown  awa)'. 

Not  so  thouijht  Champlain.  l'"ortunatei_\-,  he  was  too  indispensable  a  man  to 
be  recalletl,  tlioujfh  it  was  lei^itimatc  to  op[)ose,  to  check,  to  thwart  his  projects 
whenever  they  tlitl  not  |)romise  tlirect  returns  lo  tiie  Company.  Champlain  aimed 
at  fouiuliui.;  an  cmiiire,  and  ewry  Ljreat  em])ir('  must  be  based  on  farming.  Therefore 
when,  in  1617,  \w  brou_<;iit  the  erstwhile  apotliecar)-,  Louis  llcbert,  lo  Quebec,  he 
did  more  for  tiie  colony  than  when  lie  broutijht  the  Recollets  and  Jesuits  to  it. 
And  let  this  be  said  witli  no  (.le[)reciation  of  the  labours  of  the  gray  robes  and  black 
robes.  Hebert  was  the  first  who  gave  himself  up  to  the  task  of  cultivating  the 
soil  in  New  France,  and  the  tirst  head  of  a  family  resident  in  the  country  who  lived 
on  what  he  cultivated.  His  son-in-law  Couiliard  walked  in  the  same  good  path,  the 
path  tirst  trodden  by  "  tlie  grand  oitl  gardener  anil  his  wife."  No  matter  how  soldiers, 
sailors,  fur-traders  and  priests  might  come  and  go,  the  farmer's  ciiildren  held  on  to 
the  land,  aiul  tiieir  descendants  hold  it  still.  They  increased  and  multiplied  so  mightily 
tiiat  tiiere  are  few  I'rencii  families  of  anv  anti(piit\-  in  Canada  who  cannot  trace 
their  genealogy  by  .some  link  back  to  that  of  Louis  Hebert.  Hebert  and  Couiliard 
Streets,  streets  quainti.-r  ami  more  e.xpressive  of  the  seventeenth  century  than  any  to  be 
seen  now  ni  St.  Malo,  commemorate  their  names.  One  of  their  descendants  informed 
th(^  writer  that  those  streets  rim  where  the  first  furrows  were  ploughed  in  Canada,  prob- 
ably in  the  same  way  thai  some  of  the  streets  in  Boston  an-  saitl  to  mcamUr  along  the 
paths  madi'  b\-  the  cows  of  the  I'irst  inhabitants.  Had  others  followetl  1  leberl's  example 
the  colony  would  not  have  been  so  long  suspended  between  life  anti  death,  and  Cham- 
plain could  h.ive  held  out  against  the  Huguenot  Kerkls  in  lOjq.  Hut  the  Company,  far 
from  doing  anything  to  encourage  the  few  tillers  of  the  ground,  did  everything  to  dis- 
courage them.  All  grain  raised  had  to  be  sold  at  a  price  fixed  by  the  Company,  and 
the  Company  alone  had  the  jiower  of  buying.  Of  course  the  Heberts  and  Couillards 
ought  to  ha\c  been  grateful  that  there  was  a  Company  to  bu\-,  for  what  could  farmers 
do  without  a   market  ? 

Of  Cham|)lain's  labours  it  is  unnecessar\-  to  speak  at  length.  Twenty  times  he  crossed 
the  Atlantic  to  tight  for  his  colon\-.  though  it  was  a  greater  undertaking  to  cross  the 
Atlantic  then  than  to  go  rouiul  the  world  now.  I  h-  ma)-  be  called  the  founder  of  .Mon- 
treal as  V"ll  as  of  Ouebec.  I'"irst  of  i'luropeans  he  sailetl  up  the  Richelieu,  giving  to  the 
beautiful  river  the  name  of  the  Company's  great  patron.  He  discovered  Lake  Cham- 
plain. He  tirst  ascended  the  Ottawa,  crossed  to  Lake  Nipi.ssing,  and  came  ilown  by  the 
valley  of  the  Trent  to  what  he  called  "the  fresh  wat(!r  sea"  of  Ontario.  He  secured 
th('  alliance  of  all  the  Indi.in  tribes  the  confederacy  of  the  l''ive  Nations  exce|)ted  -by 
treaties  which   lasted  as  long  as  the  white  tlag  tloated  over  the  castle  of    St.    Louis,  and 


QUEPkC. 


It 


wliicli  laitl  iIk;  f<niiul;iti(in  of  the  friendship  that  has  ("xistcd  between  every  Canadian 
^overiiinfiit  antl  thc'  old  sons  and  lords  of  the  soil.  D'.Arcy  McGee,  in  one  of  those 
addresses  that  made  li:arned  and  unlearned  feel  what  is  the  ])otency  aiul  onini]>otency 
of  man's  word  on  the  souls  of  men,  thus  sketched  his  moral  cjualities  and  ani.'/iny 
versatility: — "lie  was  hrave  almost 
to  rashness.  He  would  cast  himself 
with  a  sinijjle  luiropean  follower  in 
tin;  mitlst  of  savajre  enemies,  and 
more  than  once  his  life  was  endan- 
gered by  the  e.\cess  of  his  confidence 
and  his  ccnirage.  I  li:  was  eminently 
social  in  his  habits — witness  his  or- 
der of  /(■  hoii  Iciiips,  in  which  every 
man  of  his  associates  was  for  one 
day  host  to  all  his  comrades,  He 
was  sannuine,  as  became  an  adven- 
turer ;   antl  self-denyinir,  as  became  a 


MOUNTAIN  nil. I., 
I'loin  IDJ)  nf  Htink-ncili  St.lirs. 


hero.  .  .  1  le  toiiclu-d  the 
extremes  of  human  cxperi- 
I'lice  amoni;  ili\'erse  characters  ,ind  nations. 
tW.  one  time  he  sketched  plans  of  ci\ili/t(l 
a,i;i,rrandi/iniciit  for  lUniy  1\'.  and  Richelieu; 
at  another,  he  plannetl  schemes  of  wild  war- 
fare with  Huron  chiefs  antl  .AlgoiKjuin  braves. 
He  united  in  a  most  rare  de^rree  the  faculties 
of  action  and  ri'tlection.  ami  like  all  hiy;hly- 
re!lecti\-e  minds,  his  thouiL^IUs.  Ioiiil;  cherishetl 
in  secret,  ran  often  into  the  moi'kl  of  max- 
ims, some  ol  which  would  form  the  fittest 
possible  inscriptions  to  i)e  eiiL;ra\-en  upon 
his    monument.       \\'hen     the     merchants     of 


13 


QUEBEC. 


\    ' 


i 


li 


*!  t, 


Quebec  grumbk'd  at  the  cost  of  fortifying  that  place,  lie  said,  '  It  is  best  not  to  obey 
the  passions  of  men  ;  tiu-y  are  i)iit  for  a  season  ;  it  is  our  tkity  to  regard  the  future.' 
With  all  iiis  love  of  good-fellowship,  he  was,  what  sei-ins  to  sonu;  inconsistent  with  it,  sin- 
cerely and  entiiusiastically  religious.  Among  his  ma.xims  are  the.se  two — that  'the  salvation 
of  one  soul  is  of  more  value  than  the  conepiest  of  an  empire;'  and  that  'kings  ought 
not  to  think  of  extending  their  authority  over  idolatrous  nations,  except  for  the  purpose  of 
subjecting  them  to  Jesus  Christ.'"  The  one  mistake  made  by  Champlain  has  already  been 
.  irred  to.  He  attacked  the  Iroipiois,  whereas  he  should  have  conciliated  them  at  any 
cost  or  remained  neutral  in  all  Indian  wars.  His  mistake  was  not  so  mutii  intellectual 
as  moral.  It  was  a  crime  and — /xta-  Talleyrand — worse  than  a  biumler.  Mut  it  is  not 
pleasant  to  refer  to  the  errors  of  such  a  man.  Well  may  Quebec  commemorate  his  name 
and  virtues.  Let  us  not  forget,  when  we  walk  along  the  quaint,  narrow,  crowded  street 
that  still  bears  his  name,  or  clamber  "Break-neck  Stairs"  from   Little    Champlain   Street 

to  reach  Durham  Terrace,  where  he  built  the 
Chateau  of  St.  Louis  and  doubtless  often  gazed, 
with  hope  and  pride  in  his  eyes,  on  a  scene 
like  to  which  there  are  few  on  this  earth,  how 
much  Canada  owes  to  him  !  Well  for  those 
who  follow  him  where  all  may  follow — in  un- 
selfishness of  purpose,  in  unflinching  Nalour,  and 
in  continence  of  life.  \o  monument  points  out 
his  last  resting-place,  for.  strange  to  say,  "of  all 
b'rench  governors  interretl  within  the  oucintc, 
he  is  the  onl\-  one  of  whosi;  place  of  sepulture 
we  are  ignorant."*  The  registers  of  Quebec 
were  destroyed  in  the  great  conflagration  of 
1640.  Thus  it  hap|)ens  that  we  have  not  the 
account  of  his  burial.  M.  Dionne  shows  that  in 
all  probability  the  remains  were  first  ilcposited 
in  the  chapel  of  \otre  Dame  de  la  Rccouvrancc  ;  then  in  a  vault  of  masonry  in  the 
chapel  built  by  his  successor  in  the  ( jovernorship,  whence;  they  were  removed  by  the 
authorities  to  the  Masilica.  Champlain  needs  no  monument,  least  of  all  in  Quebec. 
The  city  is  his  monument. 

Most  religious  Chiebec  was  from  the  first  under  the  intUience  of  Champlain  ;  most 
religious  is  it  in  appearance  to  this  day.  There  are  churches  though  for  a  city  with  fi\e 
times  th<;  pntsent  population.  I"]cclesiastical  establishments  of  one  kind  or  another  occup) 
the  lion's  share  of  tin-  s|)ace  within  the  walls.  At  every  corner  the  soutancd  ecclesiasti: 
meets  you,   moxing  along  (|uietly,   with  the  confidence  of  owv.  who  knows  that  his  foot  is 

*  "  Ktuiles   Ilistori(itifS,"  p.ir  M.   IJ^dn.nk. 


Now  removed,  i^uarded   the  appmach  to  the  Upper    Town  by 
Mnuniaiii    Hill. 


QUEBEC 


n 


on  his  native  licatli.  It  was  tin-  same  with  tin-  cities  of  France  in  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury :  but  it  is  not  so  now.  Thin^^s  have  changed  there.  The  Revolution  made  the  Old 
World  New.  In  yuebec  the  New  World  clings  to  the  garments  of  the  Old.  Champlain 
first  inducc'd  the  Recollet  friars  to  come  to  his  aid.  The  Jesuits,  then  at  the  height  of 
their  power  in  I'rance,  followed.  The  Company  disliked  missionaries  almost  as  much  as 
it  disliked  farmers.  "They  tolerated  the  poor  RecoUets,"  says  l-erland,  "hut  they  dreaded 
the  coming  of  tiu-  Jesuits,  who  had  powerful  protectors  at  Court  ami  who  could  through 
them  carry  their  comiilaints  to  the  foot  of  the  throne."  Consequently,  when  the  first 
detachment  of  Jesuits  arrived  they  found  <;very  door  shut  against  them,  and  if  the  Re- 
collets    had    not    offered   them    hospitalitx    they    would    have    been    obliged    to    return    to 

France. 

Magnificent  missionaries  those  first  Jesuits  were ;  more  devoted  men  never  lived.     The 
names  especially  of  Charles   LalhMiiant  and  Jean  de  Brebeuf  are  still  sacred  to  thousands 
of  French-Canadian    Roman   Catholics.      Two  things  the  Jesuits  felt  the  colony  must  have 
—a  school  for  the  instruction  of   girls,  and  a    hospital  for   the  sick.      These    institutions 
they  desired   for  tii<^  sak('  of  the  colonists,   most  of  whom  were    poor,  but    still    more  for 
the  sake  of  the   Indians.     The    l-athcrs  had  1.    I   France  to  convert  the   Indians;  on    that 
work  tiieir  hearts  were  set,   and  they  gave  themselves  to  it  with    a    wistlom    as    great  as 
their  self-sacrifice.       Protestant  missionaries,  as  a  class,  are  only  now  learning   to  imitate 
their  methods  of  procedure,   especiall\-  with  regard  to  the  establishment  of    hospitals  and 
the    acquisition  of  .i   perfect  knowledge    of    the    language  and    modes    of    thought    of  the 
people  whose  conxersion  they  seek.     What   Livingstone  did  in   South   Africa  when  he  cut 
himself  loose  from  all   the  other  missionaries  who  kept  within  reach  of    the    comforts    of 
the  colony,  and  plunged   into  the  thick  of  the  native  tribes  beyond;  what  the    Canadian 
missionarx    Mackay   <lid  eight   years  ago   in    I'ormosa  with  such  brilliant  success,  the  Jesuits 
always    ilid.       Their    first    task    was    to    master    the    language.       Grammatical  knowledge, 
they  knew,   was    not    enougii.       The\-   lived    in    the    wigwams    of    the    wretched,   filthy  no- 
mads,  travelled   with   th(Mii,   carrying  the  heaviest  loads,   anil   submitted  to  cold  and    heat, 
to  privations,  and   the  thousand  abominations  of  savage  life,  without    a    murmur.        They 
cared  for  tiie  sick,   and,   expecting  little  aid   from  the  old,  sought  to  ("ducate    the    young. 
Charlevoix  tells  us  how  they  sucnnded  in  establishing  in  Om-bec  both   th('   Hotel   I  ).ieu  and 
th('  I'rsuline  Convent.      Madame  la  Duchesse  DWiguillon,  the  niece  of  Richelieu,  undertook 
to  found  the  first.      To  carry  out  her  pious  i.roject  she  ai)plied  to  the  hospital  nuns  of  I)iepi)e. 
"These  lioly  women   accepted   with  joy  the  opportunity  of  sacrificing  all  that  they  counted 
dear    in   the  world    for    the    service;    of    the  sick  poor  of  Canada;  all  offered    themselves, 
all  asked  with   tears  to  be  admitted  to  share  in  the  work."     .About  the  .same  time  Madame 
de  la   I'eltrie,   a  widow    of    a  good    family,   resolveil    to   found  the    Convent  of    the   Ursu- 
lines.      She  devoted  all   iier  fortune    to    give    a    Christian    education    to    the    girls    of    the 
colonists  and  of  the   Indians,  antl   followed   \\y  these  sacrifices  by  devoting  herself  to  the 


f  n 


•4 


QHiKnac 


f'  f 


ill! 


Hi 


M 


l.N     IHK    l.AKUL.S.S   OF    llil.    LKSULlNh    I  UNVKNT. 


work.     Yoiinjj,  rich,  beauti- 
ful, she   renouncotl    all    ;ul- 
vantagL's  and  |)ros|)ccts  for 
what  then  must  have-  hccn 
a  worse  than  Siberian  exile, 
At  Tours,  among  the  Ursu- 
line  nuns,  she  found  Marie 
de    riiicarnation,    who    be- 
came the  first    Mother  Su- 
perior of  the  new  convent, 
and  "Marie  de  St.  Joseph, 
whom  New  France  reganis 
as      one      of      its     tutelary 
angels."     On  the  fourth  of 
May,    1639,    she    embarked 
with    three    hospital    nuns, 
three    Ursulines,  and    Pore 
N'imond,  and    on    the    first 
of    July    they    arrivetl      at 
Oueljec.     The  length  of  the 
voyage,   not   to  refer  to  its 
discomforts,    remintis    us  of 
the  difference  between  cross- 
ing   the  Atlantic    then   and 
now.     All  Quebec  rejoiced 
on     their     arrival.       Work 
ceased,  the  shops  were  shut, 
and  the  town    was   in  fete 
"  The     (iovernor     rerei\c(l 
the  heroines  on   the   river's 
bank    at    the    head    of    his 
tr()oi)s  with   a   tlischarge  of 
cannon,  and  after  the    first 
compliments   he    led    them, 
amid    the    acclamations    of 
the  people,  to  church,  where 
Te     Deums  were     chanted 
as  a  thanksgiving."     I-'roin 
that     day    till     her    death, 


QUIilUiC. 


'5 


thirty-two   years   after,    Madame    de    la    Feltric    ^ravc    luTst-lf   up    to    the    work    she    had 
imdertaken.        Mere    Marie    ile    i'lncarnation,  whose    fervent    piety    and    spirituality    of 
character  jrained  her  the  iianu;  of    the  Ste.  There-sa  of  New  I-rance,  died  a  year  after  her. 
These  two  women    lived    in  an  atmosphere    so    different    from    ours,  that  it  is  extremely 
difficult   for  us    to  jud},re  them.       Both  have    been   condemned,   the    one    as    an    unnatural 
motlur,  the    other  as  a  disobedient  dau^diter.       They    believed    they  were  sacrificing  the 
clanns  of    natun^    to    the    superior    claim    of    their    .Saviour.      Certainly,   their  works  have 
followed  tliem.     The  j^reat   Ursuline  Convent  of  Quebec,  to  which  hundreds  of  j^rjrls  are 
sent  to  be  educated  from    all    parts  of  the  continent,  is  their  monument.     The  buildings 
have  been    repeatedly  destrojed    by    fire,  but  have  always  been  replaced  by  others  more 
expensive  and  substantial,  the  community  apparently  delighting  to  testify  its  sense  of  the 
value  of  the   work   done   by  the  devoted   Sisters.     Within  their  spacious  grou.uls,  in  the 
heart  of  the  cit)-,  are  various  buildings,  one  for  boarders,  among  whom  to    this   day  are 
daughters  of  Indian  chiefs;  another  for  day  scholars;  a  normal  .school;  a  school  for  the 
|)oor;  a  chapel  anti  choir,  and   nuns'  (juarters  ;  with  gardens,   play  and    pirasure    grounds 
for  the  youthful    inmates,  and    summer    and    winter    promenades— all    elocpient    with    the 
memories  of  the  pious  founder,   who    had   not    disdained    to  toil    in   tiie  garden  with    her 
own  hand.     To  each  generation   of  su.sceptible  minds  the  lives  of   Mnie  de  la   Peltrie  and 
Mere  Marie  are  held  up  for  imitation,  and  no  honour  is  grudged  to  their  memories. 

Not  only  religious,   but  charitable  and  moral,   was  Quebec  under    the    administration 
of  Champlain  ami  his  successors.     I'Y'rIand  cites  the  registers  of  Notre  Dame  of  Quebec 
to  show  that  out  of  664  children   baptised   between    1621   and    1661,  only  one  was  illegiti- 
mate.     Still,  the  colony  did  not  prosper  ;    again  ami  again   it  was  on   the  point  of  extinc- 
•    >n  at  the  hands  of  the   Iroquois.      The  Company  sat  upon    its    agricultural    and    indus- 
trial development  like  the  old  man  of  the  sea.      In    1663  the  population  of    New  France 
consisted  of  only  two  thousand  souls,  scattereii  along  a  thin  I.rok.n  line  from  Tadoussac 
to  Montreal.     Of  this  small  total  Quebec  claimed  Soo.     At  any  moment   a    ru.le    breath 
would  have  killed  the  colony,  but  now  favouring  gales    came:    from    Old  I-rance.     Louis 
XIV.  determinetl  to    suppress    the    Company,  and    bring    Canada    under   his   own    direct 
authority.     He  constitutetl  i)y  direct  appointment  a  Sovereign  Connril  to  sit  in  Quebec, 
immediately  responsible  to  himself,   the  principal   functionaries  to  be    the  Governor-Gene- 
ral,  the   Royal    Intendant,    and   the    liishop,  each  to  be    a    spy    on    the    other    two.       The 
Governor-Cleneral    believed   hims.^lf    to  be  the  head  of  the  colony;    he    formed    the    apex 
of    the    governmental    pyramid.       Hut    the    Intendant,   wi,o  was  Chief    of    justice,    Police. 
Finance,  and   Marine,  understood  that  the   King  looked  to  him,  and  that  the  colony  was 
in  his  hands,  to  be  made    or    marred.       The    Bishop,  again,  knew    that    both    Clovernor- 
General  and    Intendant  would  have  to  dance  according  as  he  pulled    the  wires  at  Court. 
Talon,    the   first    Intendant   who    arrived    in    Quebec,  was    the    ablest    who    ever    held    the 
position.      Talon  was  a  statesman,  a  pupil  of  Colbert,  and  in  some    respects   in    advance 


l6 


(jUHJUiC. 


Iji 


of  liis  j^rcat  master.  He  iiri^^cd  immijfration  as  a  means  of  cnsuriiii^  to  France  the  pos- 
session of  the  New  World.  Colbert,  uiili  the  wisilom  of  the  seventeentli  century,  re|)lit'il 
that  it  would  not  be  ijriidenl  to  deij()|)ulate  the  kin^^dom.  "  .Secure  New  \'ork,"  Talon 
ur^i'tl,  "and  the  j^reat  jjaine  will  be  j^ained  for  I'" ranee."  When  that  step  was  not  taken 
he  projected  a  road  to  Acadie, — wiiicii  it  was  left  to  our  da\',  by  the  construction  of  the 
Intercolonial  Railway,  to  carr\-  out,  and  tiius  to  j^ive  to  Canaila  intlispensahle  winter 
ports,  ile  pushed  disco\er)-  in  e\(r\  direction,  selectiiiij;  his  men  wilii  marxcllous  sai,racity. 
Under  his  tlirection,  St.  Simon  and  La  Couture  re.uhed  lludson's  \\a\  1)\'  tiie  valii')'  of 
the  Saijuenay  ;  IVre  Druilletes,  the  .Atlantic  seaboard  liy  the  Chaudiere  and  liie  Ken- 
nebec; Perrot,  the  end  of  Lake  Michij^MU  and  the  entrance  of  Superior;  Joliet  and  I'ere 
Marcjuetti',  the  father  of  waters  down  to  the  Arkansas.  In  Talon's  day  Ouebec  rose 
from  beinj.;  a  fur-tradin<,r  |)ost  into  commercial  importance,  lie  l)elie\-e(l  in  the  country 
he  iiatl  been  sent  to  govern,  and  was  of  opinion  that  a  wise  national  jioiicy  demaniled 
the  i'ncoura<i;ement  in  it  of  e\er\-  possiiile  \ariet\-  of  iiulustrial  d(\(ioi)ment.  His  mantle 
fell  on  none  of  his  successors.  Instead  of  fosterinj.^  the  industries  Talon  had  inauLjuratt.'il 
and  defendinji;  llie  commercial  liberts'  wiiich  he  hail  ol)lained,  tliey  stilled  industry  and 
tradi!  under  restrictions  and  monopolies.  Not  thai  the  IiUendanls  were  wholly  to 
blame;  they  were  sent  out  on  ])urpose  to  L,ro\(.'rn  the  colony,  not  with  a  \iew  to  its  own 
benefit,  but  with  a  view  to  the  benefit  of  ( )ld  1' ranee.  Neither  the  KinL,^  nor  his  minister 
could  conceive  that  Canada  would  bent;tit  the  mother  counlr),  onl\-  as  its  material  and 
industrial  development  increased.  Talon  had  twelve  successors.  Of  all  these,  the  last, 
Hii^ot,  was  the  worst.  Id  Uit,M)t  more  than  to  any  other  m.in  brance  owes  the  loss  of 
the  New  \\ Orld.  lie  impoxcrishetl  the-  people,  noininalh'  tor  the  Kin^^'s  service,  really 
to  enrich  himself.  Tiiat  the  |)oor,  jilundered,  cheated  lial>ihi)is  were  willintj  to  'i\\^\\.  as 
they  did  for  the  Kin^,  am!  that  Montcalm  was  able  to  accomplish  anythini^  with  the 
commissariat  Hij^^it  |jrovidetl,  are  th('  wontlerful  fads  of  the  Con(pu;st  of  1759.  The  In- 
tendant's  house  was  b)-  far  the  most  e.xpensivc  and  most  splendidl\-  furnished  in  Ouebec, 
It  was  emphatically  "The  Palace,"  and  the  tjate  nearest  it  was  called  the  Palace  Ciate, 
It  stood  outside  the  walls, —  its  principal  entrance  opjjosite  the  cliff  on  liie  present  line  of 
St,  Valier  .Street,  "untler  the  Arsenal;"  while  its  spacious  i^rounds,  beautifully  laid  out  in 
walks  and  gardens,  extendiuLj  over  sevcrral  acres,  sloped  down  to  the  ri\er  St.  Ciiarles.* 
It  is  described  in  169S  as  ha\iny  a  frontaj^^e  of  480  feet,  consisting-  of  the  Ro\al  store- 
house and  other  buildings,  in  adiiition  to  the  Palace  itself,  so  that  it  a|)|)eai-ed  a  little 
town.  In  171^^  it  was  destro\(Hl  i>y  lire,  but  immeiliatel)'  rebuilt  in  accordance  with  the 
French  domestic  style  of  the  period,  two  storeys  and  a  basement,  as  shown  by  sketches 
made  by  one  of  the  officers  of  the  tleet  that  accompanit'd  Wolfe's  e-xpinlition.  Here,  no 
matter  what  might  be  the  poverty  of  th(;  people,  the  Intendant  surromuled  himself  with 
splendour.      In    Bigot's  time  (;very  form   of  dissipation   reigmd   in    the    Palace;    while    tl'f 

*  Siimniary  of  U)k  ■■  History  of  tlu'  Iiilenilaiit's  I'alactt,"  l)y  Ciiaki.i..-.  \V.\l.K.r..M.   Militia  Ut-paitrneiit. 


QUEREC. 


J7 


habitant,  who  lia<l  l<-fl  liis  farm  lo  fij^rht  for  the  Kin;,',  could  hardly  jjet  a  ration  of 
black  hrttad  for  himself,  or  a  sou  to  send  to  his  starviiijr  wife  and  littk-  ones  at 
home.       Our    illustration  shows  ail  that  is  left  of  the  maj^niificent    Palace.       It  arose  out 


Sr.   KOCH'S  SUHUKHS  AM)  OLD  ARSE.NAL 


of  a  hrewc-ry  startcil  h\  Talon  as  a  part  of       \  ^^-'"'^'■'  •<  ■^'^"''''"fa  ^kte  -^^ 

his  national   policy,  and    it    has    returned 

to    be    part    of    a    brewery,  and    for    all    tlie    luxury   and    l)rav(,'r)-    there    is   nothing    now 

to    show,   and    the    cheatinj^    ami    the    ^amblinj^    are,     let    us    ii()|)e.    receivinj;    their    just 

recom|)ense    of    reward. 

The  Ciovernor's  Chateau  is  not.  The  Intendant's  Palace  was  destroyed  more 
than  a  ccntur)-  aj^o,  but  the  Bishop's  house,  seminary  and  catliedral  still  remain,  and  the 
bishop,  or  archl)ishop  as  h.e  is  now  styled,  is  yet  the  most  potent  personage  in  Quebec. 
The  early  bishop,  Laval,  is  one  of  the  historic  fijjures  of  New  France.  Seen  by 
Ultramontane  eyes,  this  first  Canadian  bishop  stanils  on  tlie  highest  pinnacle  of  human 
excellence  and  tjreatness  ;  tiie  only  mystery  beinsj;  that  the  Church  has  not  yet  canon- 
ized him.  lie  did  everythini,^  "for  the  tjlory  of  God,"  the  expression  meaning  to 
him,  as  to  ecclesiastical  fanatics  of  every  creed,  the  .glory  of  the  Church,  and  in  some 
mc^asure    the    glory    of  himself.       lie;  cared   nothing  for   money    or    any    form    of     \ulgar 


i8 


<j(  /{/i/u: 


preatncss.  His  nmhitioii  was  loftiiT,  lie  would  rule  llic  souls  of  nun,  .uul  woe  to 
tlu'  man  in  his  widciy-cxtendfd  diocc-SL-,  Ix-  lit-  (iovcrnor-Genoral,  statesman,  nuichant,  priest 
or  savajjc,  wlio  ventured  to  call  his  soul  his  own.  Tiuc,  none  seemed  niore  ready  than 
l-aval  to  jjjivc  support  to  the  State.  The  Cluinli  was  supnine  onl)  in  tilings  spiritual. 
Kings,  too,  ruled  iiy  Divin*'  rij;ht.  Hut  then  the  Church  was  to  instruct  the  Kinjr,  or  the 
Kinj^'s  representative,  as  to  what  matters  were  civil  and  what  spiritual.  l"or  instance. 
when  the  bishop  decided  that  the  introduction  of  hraiuly  into  the  colon)'  was  injurious 
to  religion,  the  importinjr  or  sale  of  brandy  became  a  spiritual  matter.  In  that 
case  the  Governor,  on  pain  of  excommunication,  must  punish  the  xcmlor  ol  brandy 
with  the  pillory,  and,  if  need  be,  with  death.  I'lvidentK,  deneral  Neal  how  follows, 
loiij^ty  iiilcrvaHo,  our  first  Canadian  Ijishop.  .Always  t'mhtini^,  l,a\al  (onld  say  as 
honestly  as  the  Kin^  himself,  "  It  seems  to  me  I  am  the  onl\'  p<rson  who  is  always 
right."  rile  constitution  of  the  Church  of  New  France  took  its  permanent  form  from 
him.  His  clergy  were  his  soUliers.  When  he  saiil  "March,"  they  marched.  He 
established  a  lesser  seminary  where  tlu'y  were  eilucated  as  bo\s.  and  th('  great 
seminary  where  they  were  traint-d  as  priests.  He  assigned  iluir  tiekls  of  labour, 
changed  them  as  he  saw  meet,  and  provided  a  home  whither,  when  inlirm  or 
exhausted  with  labour  or  old  age  thi'y  might  resort,  either  to  recruit  or  die  in 
peace.  Their  ilirectory  in  life  and  death  was  every  woril  thai  i)roceeiled  out  of 
the  mouth  of  the  bisho|).  Other  directory  tlu'\-  desired  not.  To  tin;  seminary  a 
University  under  Royal  Charter  was  attached  in  1852,  and  to  that  I'niversity  Laval's 
name  has  been  deservedly  given.  The  Charter,  which  sets  forth  that  the  seminary 
has  existed  for  two  hunilreil  years,  constitutes  tlu;  archliishop  visitor,  and  the  su|)erior 
and  directors  of  the  seminary  a  body  corporate,  with  all  the  privileges  of  a  I'niver- 
sity. and  full  power  to  make  all  statutes  and  appoint  all  professors.  "Laval  University 
has  nothing  more;  to  ask  from  tin;  civil  and  religious  authorities  to  complete  its 
constitution,"  is  the  announcem  lU  of  its  board  of  goMTiiment.  Its  Ro\al  Charter 
assimilates  it  to  the  most  favoured  University  of  the  I'nited  Kingdom,  while  the 
sovereign  pontiff,  Pius  the  Ninth,  magnificently  crowned  the  edifice  1>\  ^iccording  to 
it  in    1876  solemn  canonical   honours  by  the    Hull   "inter  I'arias  solicilutiincs." 

From  the  opposite  shore  of  Levis.  Laval  University,  standing  in  the  most 
commanding  position  in  the  upi)t--r  town,  towering  to  a  height  of  fi\c  storeys,  is  the 
most  conspicuous  buikling  in  Quebec.  The  American  tourist  takes  it  for  the  chief 
hotel  of  the  ])lace,  and  congratulates  himself  that  a  child  of  the  monster  hotels  he 
loves  has  found  its  way  north  of  the  line.  When  he  finds  that  it  is  only  a  University, 
he  visits  it  as  a  matter  of  course,  looks  at  the  librar)'  and  museum,  n'mrirking  casually 
on  their  inferiority  to  those  in  ;iny  one  of  the  four  lumdretl  and  (nld  Universities  in 
the  United  .States,  and  comes  out  in  a  few  minutes,  likely  enough  without  having 
gone  to  the  roof  to  see  one  of  the  most  glorious  panoram.is   in   the   New  World.      Here 


QVI'.lil'.C. 


19 


Al      1  111.    (i.\l  1:    1  U      l..\\  Al.     I   M\  1  K>l  1  N 


he  is.  at  thr  sjjato.  Hlessings  on  his  serene,  kindly  sense  of  superiority  to  all  men  or 
thintjs  in  heaven  or  on  eartli  !  He  has  seen  nothing  that  can  compare  for  a 
moment  with  SliclvvilU-.  I'Jii^iishnu'n,  I'Venchmen,  Sisters,  students,  Canadian  soldiers, 
civilians,  are  round  about,  Iiut  he  alone  is  monarch  of  all  he  surveys.  A  strange 
sight  arrests  his  attention.     Young  Canada,  cap  in  hand,  cap  actually  off  his    head,  and 


20 


Qunnnc 


}   '    3 


I 


y 


licad  reverently  howetl  while  a  priest  speaks  a  V\\\A  wonl  or  pcrliaps  ;^ives  his  blessing ! 
Tiiis  is  soint'tiiinji  new,  and  he  is  too  j^ooii  an  uliscrvcr  not  to  make  a  nol<'  of  it, 
con^jratiihitin^  liiinself  at  the  same  time  that  lie  is  willing,'  to  make  allowances.  Is 
it  not  his  "  s|)ecialty,"  as  John  Riiskin  hath  it,  "his  one  yift  to  the  race — to  sliow  men 
how   not  to  worship?" 

A  Canadian  may  be  pardoned  for  calling;  attention  to  the  sij,Miiricance  of  the 
^Tant,  l)y  the  British  (iovernment,  of  a  Royal  Charter  to  Laval  University.  The 
trust  in  an  hirrarchy  that  the  peo|)le  trust,  illustrtttes  the  fundamental  princii)le  of  its 
policy  in  Canada.  No  matter  what  the  (juestion,  so  lonj,'  as  it  is  not  inconsistent  with 
the  Queen's  supremacy,  Canada  is  jjoverned  in  accordance  with  the  constitutionally 
expressed  wishes  of  the  people  of  I'ach  l'rovinc:e.  The  success  which  has  ;itteiuled  the 
frank  acceptance  of  this  principle  sujjj^ests  tin;  only  possible  solution  of  that  Irish 
Question  which  still  baffles  statesmen.  What  has  worked  like  a  charm  here  ou,i;lu  to 
work  in  another  part  of  the  Lmpiri;.  Here,  we  have  a  million  of  people  (ip|)()seil  in 
race,  religion,  character  and  historical  associations  to  the  majority  of  Canadians,  a 
peo])le  whose  forefathers  foujj;ht  linj^land  for  a  century  and  a  half  on  the  soil  on 
which  the  children  are  now  livinjf;— a  Celtic  people,  massed  toj,rether  in  one  Province, 
a  people  proud,  sensitive,  submissive  to  their  priests,  and  not  very  well  educated ;- this 
people  half  a  centur)-  a^o  badj,'ered  every  Governor  that  Hrit.iin  sent  out,  stopiied  the 
supplies,  embarrassed  authority,  and  at  last  broke;  out  into  ojicn  reliellion.  Now,  they 
are  peaceable,  contented,  pros|)erous.  They  co-operate  for  .ill  i)urposes  of  i^ootl  i,f()\i'rn- 
ment  with  the  other  Provinces,  ilo  no  intentional  injustice  to  tlu!  Protestant  minority  of 
their  own  Province,  and  are  so  heartily  loyal  to  the  central  authority  that  it  has 
become  almost  an  unwritten  law  to  select  the  Minister  of  W'ar  from  their  representatives 
in  Parliament.  Let  him  who  runs  read,  and  read,  too,  the  answer  of  D'.Xrcy  McCii-e  to 
those  who  wondered  that  the  younij  rebel  in  Irelaml  should  be:  the  mature  ardent 
admirer  of  Hritish  government  in  Canada:  "If  in  my  da)'  Ireland  had  been  >j;overned 
as  Canada  is  now  governed,  I  would  have  been  as  sound  a  constitutionalist  as  is  to 
be  found  in   Irt^land." 

The  best  thing  Louis  XI\'.  did  for  Quebec  was  the  sending  to  it  of  the  regi- 
ment of  Carignan-Salitres.  A  few  companies  of  veterans,  led  by  Canadian  blue-coats, 
penetrateil  by  the  Richelieu  to  the  lairs  of  the  Iroquois,  and  struck  such  terror 
into  them  that  the  colony  was  thenceforth  allowed  to  breathe  and  to  grow.  .Still 
better,  when  the  regiment  was  disbanded,  most  of  the  soldiiirs  remained,  and  many 
of  the  picturesque  towns  and  villages  that  have  grown  up  along  the  Richelieu 
and  St.  Lawrence  owe  their  names  to  the  officers,  to  whom  large  .-ieignorial  rights 
were  given  by  the  King  on  condition  of  their  settling  in  the  colony.  From  these 
veterans  sprang  a  race  as  adventurous  and  intrepid  as  ever  lived.  Their  exploits  as 
salt-water    and    fresh-water    sailors,    as    coHrciirs   </c   />ois,  discoverers,  soldiers    regular  and 


QUIiliHC. 


i\ 


irrt'^jiilar,  lill  m.iny  a  |)a.i;i'  ol  old  Canailian  liistory.  Wlictlicr  with  the  );allaiU  l)r()tlii:rs 
L«:  Moync,  ilcfciulin^;  Oiit'lxr  a),Minst  Sir  William  riiipiis,  or  striking  It-rror  into  New 
N'oriv  and  New  I'in^daiul  l>y  swift  forays  such  as  llcrtcl  ilc  Roiivillc  led;  or  with 
I  )ii  Lliiii  .\\\y\  1  )ur,iiUa)f,  lircakiiii;  loose  from  the  strait -jai;kfl  in  whirli  Ko)al  In- 
tendants  imprisoned  the  colony,  and  ai)andoninjr  themselves  to  the  savajje  freeilom  of 
western  fort  and  forest  life;  or  luuler  D'Hierville,  most  celebrated  of  the  seven  sons 
of  Charles  |,e  Moyne,  sweepinjf  the  iui^jlish  llajr  from  Newfoundland  and  Hudson's 
Ha)'  or  coIoni/inj,f  Louisiana;  or  with  Jumonville  and  his  I)rt)ther  on  the  Oiiio,  lU;- 
featinj^r  W'ashinj^'ton  and  liraddock ;  or  vainly  contjuerinj^^  at  I'Ort  William  Henry  and 
Carillon  and  Montmorency  and  Ste.  I'oye, — the  pictun;  is  always  full  of  life  anil  colour. 
Whatever  islse  may  fail,  valour  and  tlevotion  to  tlu'  Kin^f  ni  \cr  fail.  W^-  tind  the 
dare-devil  courau"  ioined  with  the  j^aiety  of  heart  and  reatly  accommodation  to  cir- 
cumstances that  the  I'renchman  popular,  alike  with  friendly  savatjes  and  civil- 
izeil  foemen,  in  ,  irts  ol  the  world.  Canadian  experiences  developed  in  tin-  old 
I'rench  stock  new  >ju.ilities,  j^ood  and  liad,  the  l;ooi1  predominalinj^.  X'l'rsed  in  all 
kinds  of  woodcraft,  handlinj^  an  a.\e  as  a  modern  tourist  handk^s  a  tooth-pick,  manaj^inj.; 
a  canoe  like  Indians,  inureil  to  tlu!  climate,  sujjplyinj^f  tlu:mselves  on  the  march  with 
lood  from  forest  or  ri\cr  and  cookini;  it  in  the  nuist  approved  style,  fearing  neither 
frost  nor  ice,  depth  of  snow  nor  di'pth  of  muskeg,  indf'pendent  of  roads, — such  men 
needed  only  a  leader  who  umlerstood  them  to  j;(>  anywhere  into  \\\v.  untrodden 
depths  of  the  New  World,  and  to  do  anythiui^  that  man  could  ilo.  Such  a  leader 
they  found  in  l.ouis  de  Huade,  Comple  ile  I'alleau  et  de  I'rontcnac.  Huatle  .Street 
recalls  his  name,  and  there  is  little  else  in  the  olil  cit)'  that  does,  thouL,di  yuebec 
loved  him  well  in  his  ilay.  Talon  had  done  all  that  man  coidd  do  to  develop  the 
infant  colon_\-  \i\  ine.ins  of  a  national  ])olic\  ihat  stimulatetl  iiulustr)',  and  an  immi- 
gration policy,  wise  ami  \ii;()rous  cnoui^h,  as  far  as  his  appe.ils  to  the  King  and 
Colbert  went,  for  the  nineteenth  century.  Anotlu'r  man  was  nieded  t)  enable  the 
thin  lint!  of  colonists  to  make  lu-atl  against  the  formidable  Irocpiois,  backed  as  they 
were  by  the  |)uuli  and  I'.nglish  of  New  \'ork.  .ind  against  the  citizen  sailors  anil 
soldiers  of  New  England;  to  direct  their  energit^s  to  the  (ireal  West;  to  make  tlu-m 
feel  that  the  power  of  I'Vance  was  with  them,  no  matter  how  far  the)-  wandered 
from  Quebec;  and  to  ins|)ire  them  with  the  thought  that  the  whole  unbounded  con- 
tinent was  theirs  by  right.  -Such  a  man  was  I'rontenac.  Of  his  quarrels  with  intendants 
and  clergy  it  would  be  a  waste  of  time  to  speak.  To  defend  him  from  the  accusations 
made  against  his  honour  is  unnecessary.  1  low  coidd  quarrels  be  avoided  where  three 
officials  lived,  each  having  some  reason  to  believe,  in  accordance  with  the  profound 
state-craft  of  the  Old  Regime,  that  he  was  the  supreme  ruler!  l*"rontenac  was  titidar 
head,  and  he  would  be  the  real  head.  Neither  bishops  nor  inti'udants  should  rule 
in    his    da\-.    anil    the)    did   not.   and  could   not.     They  could   worr)-  him  and  i^ven  .secure 


'  'ill 


2i 


QVF.nEC. 


\y 


his    recall,  Init   llu-y  could   not  tjovcrn  the  colony  when  they  yot  the  chance.      I'Vontenac 

had  to  be  sent  back  to  his 
post,  and  the  universal  joy 
with   which   the    people    re- 
ceived him  showed  that,  as 
usual,    the  people  overlook 
irritabilities    and    shortcom- 
ings,  and  discern  the  man. 
"  He   would    have    been    a 
great    prince  if  heaven  had 
])lac('il    him    on    a   throne," 
says  Charlevoi.v.    The  good 
Jesuit    forgets    that     I'ron- 
tenac    was    the    only    man 
who  sought  to  ascertain   by 
a'icicnt  legitimate   methods 
the  vijws  of    all    classes  of 
the    people,     and     that    as 
Quebec  was  shut  out  from 
communication      with      the 
throne     for     half     the 
year,  the  Ciovernor  hail 
to   act  as  a  king  or  to 
see  the  countr\'  without 
a  head,     b'ronte- 
nac     understood 
the    great    game 
that     was    being 
plajei!     for     the 
sovereignty       of 
liiis  continent. 
lie    liad     almost 
boundless     inllu- 
ence     over     the 
Indians,   because 
he       appreciated 
them,   and  in  his 


HlADi;  STREET. 
N.iiihhI   aftLT    Frontenac. 


heart  of  hearts    was    one 

of    themselves.      No   one  understood   so   well 

what  Indians  were  fitted  to  do  in  the  wild  warfare 

that    the   situation  demanded.      At    t!ie  time   of  his 

death  all  signs  betokened    that    France  was  to  dominate  the    New    World.      The  treaties 

Champlain    had  made  with  the   Indians  held   good.     The    tribes    farther   west   had    allied 


QUHIiHC. 


23 


themselves  with    the  French.     At  every  strategic    ijoint    ti'.e 
whit(!    Hag    witli    tlic  J/ciirs  dc  lis  lloated  over  a    rude    fort. 
The  St.    Lawrence   was  linketl  by  hues  of  military  comnuini- 
cation  with  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.     Quebec  had  proud- 
ly   built    the    church    of    Notre    I^ame  de    la    \'icloire 
to  commemorate  the  defeat  of  New  l^igland,  and  the 
power  of  the  terrible  Iroquois  had  been  so 
broken  that  they  could  no  longer  threaten 
the  existence  of  the  colony. 

In  spite  of  I'rontenac,  it  was  not  to 
l)e  as  the  signs  indicated.  In  spite 
of  Montcalm's  victories  it  was  not  to 
be.  History  was  again  to  pro\e  tliat 
in  a  contest  between  peace  aiul  war, 
between  steady  industry  and  dashing 
forays,  between  the  farmer  and  the 
■" ,  soldier,  the  former  is  sure  to 
win   in  the    long   run.      I  he 


corruptions    of   the   Court  of   France    had  to  do  witl 
the  issue   remotely.      Higot  and  his  \i!e  nitouras;c  had 
to    do    with    it    immeiiiateiy.       Hut    by    no    pvassibiiity 
coidd   sixty    thousa.id    poor,    uneducated    Canadians    continue    to 
resist    the  ever-increasing  weight  of   twenty  or    tliirtv  times  their 
number    of    thrifty,    intelligent    neighbours.      Wolfe    might    have 
been    defeated    on     the    Plains    of    .Abraham.       WW-    we    tiiink    of    Mont- 
calm's  military  genius,   the  victories  gained  by    him    against    heavy  odds   in 
previous    campaigns,    and    his    defeat    of    Wolfe's   grenadiers   a    few    weeks  V^ 

before    the    fina!     struggle,    our    wonder    indeed    is    that    the     Hritish    were 
not    hurled  over  those  steep   cliffs  they  had  so  painfully  clambered  up  011   that   memorable 


9i| 


!.  till 

III 


24 


QUEBEC. 


p  1' 


!'■ 


early  September  inornini,^.  Scotchmen  attributed  tlie  result  to  those  men  "  in  the  garb  of 
old  Ciaul,  witii  the  fire  of  old  Rome,"  wliom  the  British  Ciovcrnment  had  been 
wise  enough  to  organize  into  regiments  out  of  the  clans  who  a  few  years  before 
had  marched  victoriously  from  tlu'ir  owi'.  northern  glens  into  the  heart  of  I'-ng- 
land.  And  Wolfe,  had  he  lived,  would  probably  have  agreed  with  lluni.  bOr,  when 
he  told  the  grenadiers,  after  their  defeat,  that,  if  they  had  suppost'd  that  they 
alone  could  beat  the  French  army,  he  hoped  they  had  foiunl  out  their  mistake,  his 
tone  indicated  a  boundless  contiilence  in  his  Highlanders  more  llatlering  than  any 
eulogy.  Hut  the  most  irowning  \  ictory  for  Montcalm  would  onl)'  ha\c  dehucd  the 
inevitable.-  Other  armies  were  conxirging  towards  Quebec.  .And  liehind  the  armies 
was  a  population,  already  counting  itself  Ijy  millions,  determined  on  the  destruction 
of  that  nest  on  the  nortlurn  rock  whence  hornets  were  ever  issuing  to  sting  and 
madden.  Xo  one  understood  the  actual  state  of  affairs  better  than  Montcalm.  He 
knew  that  brance  had  i)racticall\'  aliandoned  Canada,  and'  left  liim  to  make  the  best 
tight  he  could  for  his  own  honour  against  hopi-less  odds.  Hence  that  ])recipital(' attack 
on  Wolfe,  for  whicJi  he  has  Ijeen  censured.  He  knew  that  ever\'  hour's  ik-la\'  wouKl 
increase  Wolfe's  relative  strength.  Hence,  too,  thai  abandonment  of  the  whole  cause, 
after  the  battle,  for  which  he  has  been  censured  still  more  severely.  "  1  will  neither 
give  orders  nor  interfere  any  further,"  he  e.xclaimed  with  emotion,  when  urgeil  to  issue 
instructions  about  the  defence  of  tin-  city.  \\v  had  done  all  that  man  could  do. 
He  had  sealed  his  loyalty  with  his  blood.  And  now,  seeing  that  the  stars  in  their 
courses  were  fighting  against  the  cause  he  luul  so  gallanll\  u|)held.  anil  that  llu'  issue 
was  i)re-detormined,  he  would  take  no  more-  resp>  •isiliilit\.  He  knew,  too,  that  his 
best  a\-engers  would  be  found  in  the  ranks  of  his  ei  -mies  ;  that  Britain  in  crushing 
b'rench  i)ower  in  its  seat  of  strength  in  .\uuriia,  w,  oxcrreaching  hersi'lf,  .md  jire- 
paring  a  loss  out  of  all  proportion  to  the  present  gain.  He  a|)iireci,itetl  the  "  Hostonnais  ; " 
predicting  that  they  would  never  submit  to  an  island  thousands  of  miles  awa\-  wIumi 
they  controlled  the  continent,  whereas  they  would  have  remained  loyal  if  a  hostile 
power  held  the  St.  Lawrence  and  the  Lak(-s.  Was  he  not  right?  .And  hail  not  I'ilt 
and  Wolfe,  then,  as  much  to  do  with  bringing  about  the  separation  of  the  Thirteen 
States  from   the  mother  country,   as   branklin  and   Washington? 

The  story  of  the  campaigns  of  1759-60  need  not  be  told  here.  Every  incident 
is  faniiliar  to  tlu'  traditional  school-boy.  Every  tourist  is  sure  to  visit  Wolfe's  Cove 
for  himself,  and  to  ascend  the  heights  called  after  the  old  Scottish  pilot  "Abraham" 
Martin.  No  sign  of  war  now.  Rafts  of  timl)er  in  the  Cove,  and  ships  from  all 
waters  to  carry  it  away,  insleail  of  boats  crowded  with  rugged  Highlanders  silent  as 
the  grave.  No  trouble  apprehendeil  by  any  ont;,  except  from  steveilores  whose  right  it 
is  to  dictate  terms  to  commerce  and  orc.isionally  to  throw  the  city  into  a  state  of  siege. 
No   precipice  ndw,  the   face   of   which    must   be   scaled   on    hands   and   knees.       .A   pleasant 


QUEBRC. 


25 


road  leads  to  the  Plains,  and  )on  antl  your  ]iart)'  can  dri\o  leisurcl)-  up.  There, 
before  you,  a'^ross  the  common,  is  the  modest  column  that  tells  where  Wolfe  "died 
victorious."  Between  it  and  the  Citadel  are  Martello  towers,  di_t,fj;;inij  near  one  of 
which  some  \ears  a^o,  skeletons  were  found,  anil  militar)-  buttons  and  buckles,  the 
dreary  pledj^es,  held  by  battle-fields,  of  human  valour  and  cU-votion  ami  all  the  pomp 
and  circumstance  of  war.  ^'ou  must  tlrive  into  the  city  to  see  the  monument  that 
commemorates  the  joint  ylory  of  Montcalm  and  Wolfe  ;  and  out  attain,  to  see  the 
third  monument,  sacred  to  the  memory  of  the  braves  who,  under  the  skilful  De 
Levis,   uselessly-  aven<^ed  at   Ste.  I-'oye  the  defeat   of  Montcalm. 

The  red-cross  (laij    floated  over   the   Chateau  of   St.    Louis,    and    New   I'"ni;lantl   jjave 


l)\  I  Kl.i  K)KIN(.  SI.  11IAK1.1;S  NAl.l.l.V. 

liianks.  I'ifleen  \ears  passed  away, 
,incl  Montcalm's  pi->'(iiction  was  fulfilled. 
The  ••  Hostonnais"  were  in  P'volt.  Wise  with  tlie  leaihini;  of  more  than  a  century, 
they  at  the  outset  determined  to  secure  the  .St.  Lawrence;  and  tiny  would  have 
succeeded,  iiad  it  not  been  for  the  same  stroni;  rock  of  Quebec  whiih  had  loileil 
them  SI)  often  in  the  old  colonial  da\s.  Arnold  achanced  tlirf)u^li  the  roadless  wiitlerness 
of  Maine,  defyint;  swamps,  forests,  and  innumiTable  pri\;itions  as  hardil\  as  t^ver  did 
the  old  Canatlian  iio/'hssc  when  they  raided  the  xiilai^cs  and  forts  of  Maine.  Montgomery 
swept  the  British  _L;arrisons  fi-om  the  Richelieu  and  Monlrt'al,  and  jnined  Arnokl  at 
the  ap|)ointed  rendezvous.  Their  success  must  iiave  astonished  themselves.  The 
explanation  is  that  tin;  colony  had  no  s^'arrisons  to  speak  of.  and  tiiai  tiie  1  rtMuh 
Canadians  felt  that  the  (piarrel  w;is  none  of  their  makini^.  In  a  month  all  C  ana('a 
—Quebec  excepted  had  been  j^^ained  for  Congress  ;  ,and  tiiere  was  no  i^.irrison  in  (Jueb'.'c 
capable  of  resistiiiLJ  the  combined  forces  that  Arnold  and  MontL;omer\'  led.  But  CiU\' 
Carleton  reached  Quebec,  and  another  proof  was  given  to  the  world  that  one  man  may 
be  e(|iial   to  a  g.arrison.      In  a   fiw    days    he  had  breathed  his  own   sjiiril   into   the  militia, 


I 


36 


QUEBEC. 


f 

r 


()\I.KI.OOKIN(i    NOklll    (   II.WNKI.. 
I'rom    (Irand     lUtlcry    and     I.aval     L'niversily. 

nativi-  Canadians  as  well  as  British  liorn. 
The    invaders    established    themselves    in 
the    Intt;ndant's    I'alace  and    other   houses 
near    the     walls,     and    after     a     month's     siej^e     made     a 
resoluic    atlcmiit    to    lake    the    city   hy  storm.       Whatever 
may  have  been   the    result    of    a    more    precipitate   attack, 
the    delay    unquestionably    afforded    greater    advantages 


QUEBEC. 


27 


to  the  besieged  than  to  the  besiegers.  Mont- 
gomery set  out  from  Wolfe's  Cove  and  crept 
along  the  narrow  patiuvay  now  Icnown  as  Cham- 
plain  Street.  ArnoKl  advanced  from  the  oppo- 
site direction.  Ills  intention  was  to  force  his 
way  round  by  what  is  now  St.  Roch's  suburbs, 
belov/  the  ramparts,  and  under  the  cliff  at 
present  crowned  by  Laval  University  and  the 
Grand  Battery,  and  to  meet  Montgomery  at 
the  foot  of  Mountain  Mill,  when  their  united 
forces  would  endeavour  to  gain  the  upper 
town.  Not  the  first  fraction  of  the  plan, 
on  the  one  sitle  or  the  othci,  succeeded. 
Arnold's  men  were  surrounded  anil  captured. 
Montgomery,  marching 
in  the  gra\-  dawn  through 
a  heavy  snow  -  storm, 
came  upon  a  battery 
that      blocked      U|)      the 


harrow  pathway. 
He  lushed  forward, 
hoping  to  take  it  by 
surprise  ;  but  the 
gunners  were  on  the 
alert,  and  the  tirst 
discharge  swept  him 
and  the  head  of  his 
column,  maimed  or 
dead,  into  the  tleep 
white  snow  or  over' 
the  bank.  The  snow- 
continued  to  fall. 
quietly    effacing    all 


MARl  Kl.l.O    ri)Wl;K. 
On   tlu'    riains  nf   Abraham. 


signs  of  the  conflict.  A  few  hours  after,  Montgomery's  body  was  found  lying 
in  the  snow,  stark  and  stiff,  and  was  carried  to  a  small  log-house  in  St.  Louis 
Street.  No  more  gallant  soldier  fell  in  the  Revolutionary  War.  Nothing  now  could 
be  done  even  by  the  daring  Arnold,  though  he  lingered  till  spring.  One  whiff  of 
grape-shot    had    decided    that     Congress    must    needs    leave    its    ancient     foi'     to    itself, 


11 


f 

1 

\ 

1 
• 

38 


QUEliHC. 


to    work    (lilt    its    tlestiiiies    in    connection    witii    tiiat    British    lunpirt;    which    it    had    so 
long  defied. 

That  decision  has  ruled  events  ever  since.  From  that  day  to  this,  constitutional 
questions  have  occupied  the  attention  of  the  Canadian  people,  instead  of  military  ambition 
and  tilt;  _L;aine  of  war.  No  such  questions  could  emerge  under  the  Old  Rdgime.  Consti- 
tutional development  was  then  impossible.  The  fundamental  principle  of  the  Old  Regime 
was  that  the  sjiiritual  and  the  civil  powers  ruled  all  subjects  by  Divine  right,  and  therefore 

that  the  first  and  last  iluty  of  govern- 
ment was  to  train  the  pe.i,jle  under  a 
long  line  of  absolute  functionaries^  re- 
ligious and  civil,  to  obey  the  powers 
that  be.  A  demaiul  for  representative 
institutions  could  hardl)  be  e.xpected 
to  come  in  those  circumstances  from 
the  French  Canadians.  Their  ambition 
extended  no  further  than  tiie  hope  that 
they  might  be  governed  economically, 
on  a  hard-money  basis,  ami  according 
to  their  own  traditions.  Their  relation 
to  the  land,  their  disposition,  habits 
and  training,  their  unquenchable  Celtic 
love  for  their  language,  laws  and  re- 
ligion, made  them  eminently  conserva- 
tive. From  the  day  the  Ikitish  llag  floated  over  their  heads,  they  came  into  the 
possession  of  rights  and  |)rivileges  of  which  their  fathers  had  never  dreamed.  The 
contrast  between  their  condition  under  Great  Britain  with  what  it  had  been  under 
France,  could  not  be  descriijed  more  forcibly  than  it  was  by  Papineau  in  the  year 
1820  on  the  hustings  of  Montreal: — "Then — under  France — trade  was  monopolised  by 
privileged  Companies,  public  and  private  property  often  pillaged,  and  the  inhabitants 
dragged  year  after  year  from  their  homes  and  families  to  shed  their  blood,  from  the 
shores  of  the  (ireat  Lakes,  from  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi  and  the  Ohio,  to  Nova 
.Scotia,  Newfoundland,  and  Hudson's  Bay.  Now,  religious  toleration,  trial  by  jury,  the 
aci  of  Habeas  Corpus,  afford  legal  and  equal  security  to  all,  and  we  need  submit  to  no 
other  laws  but  those  of  our  own  making.  All  these  advantages  have  become  our 
birthright,  and  shall,  I  hope,  be  the  lasting  inheritanct;  of  our  posterity."  But  a  ilisturbing 
element  had  gradually  worked  its  way  among  the  liahitans,  in  the  form  of  merchants, 
ofificials,  and  other  British  residents  in  the  cities,  and  United  limpire  Loyalists  from 
the  States,  and  disbamlcd  soldiers,  to  whom  grants  of  land  had  been  made  in  various 
parts    of    the    Province,   and    es|)eciall\     in    the  eastern   townships.       P>om    this    minority 


11UUS1-:    TO  \\  III!  H   MUN KlOMl.KVS  H01>V  WAS  CAKKIKU. 


QUIUUiC. 


29 


came  the  first  clenuiiul  for  larj^cr  liberty.  These  men  of  British  antecedents  felt  that 
they  could  nol  and  would  not  tolerate  military  sway  or  civil  absolutism.  They  demanded, 
and  they  taujjht  the  Gallo-Canadians  to  demand,  the  rij^hts  of  free  men.  At  the  same 
time,  immijjration  began  to  flow  into  that  western  part  of  Canada,  now  called  tlie  Province 
of  Ontario.  It  could  easily  be  foreseen  that  this  western  i)art  would  continue  to 
receive  a  population  essentially  different  from  that  of  Eastern  or  Lower  Canada.  A 
wise  statesmanship  resolved  to  allow  the  Eastern  and  Western  sections  to  develop 
according  to  their  own  sentiments,  and  to  give  to  all  Canada  a  constitution  modelled,  as 
far  as  the  circumstances  of  the  age  and  country  permitted,  on  the  Hritish  Constitution. 
To  secure  these  objects,  Mr.  Pitt  passed  the  Act  of  1791 — an  Act  that  well  deserves  the 
name,  subsequently  given  to  it,  of  the  first  "  M.igna  Charta  of  Canadian  freedom."  The 
bill  divided  the  ancient  "  Province  of  Quebec"  into  two  distinct  colonies,  imder  tlu'  names 
of  Upper  and  Lower  Canada,  each  section  to  have  a  separate  elective  Assembly.  Fo,\ 
strenuously  opposed  tin-  division  of  Canada.  "  It  would  be  wiser,"  he  said,  "  to  unite 
still  more  closely  the  two  races  than  separate  them."  Hurke  lent  the  weight  of  political 
philosophy  to  the  practical  statesmanship  of  Pitt.  "  I'or  us  to  attempt  to  amalgamate 
two  populations  composed  of  races  of  men  diverse  in  language,  laws  and  habitudes,  is  a 
complete  absurdity,"  he  warmly  argued.  Pitt's  policy  combined  all  that  was  valuable  in 
the  arguimiUs  of  both  l'"o.\  and  Burke.  It  was  designetl  to  accomplish  all  that  is  now 
accomplished,  according  to  the  spirit  as  well  as  the  forms  of  the  Britisii  Constitution, 
by  that  federal  system  untler  which  we  are  happily  living.  In  orilcr  to  make  the  Act 
of  1791  successful,  only  fair  play  was  retjuired,  or  a  disposition  on  the  part  of  thi  leaders 
of  the  people  to  accept  it  loyally.  All  constitutions  require  that  as  the  condition  of 
success.  Under  Pitt's  Act  the  bounds  of  freedom  could  have  been  widened  gradually 
and  peacefully.  But  it  did  not  get  fair  play  in  Lower  Canada,  from  either  the  rcjjre- 
sentatives  of  the  minority  or  of  the  majority  of  the  people.  The  minority  had  clamoured 
for  representative  institutions.  They  got  them,  and  then  made  the  discovery  that  the 
gift  implied  the  government  of  the  country,  not  according  to  thei/  wishes,  but  according 
to  the  wishes  of  the  great  body  of  the  people.  Naturally  enough,  the)-  then  fell  back 
on  the  Legislative  Ct)uncil,  holding  that  it  should  be  compo:;  <\  of  men  of  British  race 
only  or  their  sympathisers,  and  that  the  Executive  should  be  guided  not  by  the 
representative  Chamber,  but  by  the  Divinely-appointed  Council.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  representatives  of  the  majority  soon  awoke  to  understand  the  power  of  the  weapon 
that  had  been  put  into  their  hands.  When  they  did  understand,  there  was  no  end  to 
their  delight  in  the  use  of  the  weapon.  A  boy  is  ready  to  use  his  first  jack-knife  or 
hatchet  on  anything  and  everything.  So  they  acted,  as  if  their  new  weapon  could  not 
be  used  too  much.  As  with  their  countrymen  in  Old  France,  tluii  logical  powers 
interfered  with  their  success  in  the  practical  work  of  government.  They  were  slow  to 
learn   that  life  is  broader    than    logic,   ami  that   free  institutions  are   possible  only  by  the 


30 


QUEBEC. 


\\l 


practice  of  mutual  forliearanct;  towards  each  other  of  the  different  bodies  amonjj  whom 
the  supreme  power  is  tiistributed.  Still,  the  measure  of  constitutional  freedom  that  had 
been  generously  bestowed  had  its  legitimate  effect  on  the  l-'rench-Canadians.  They 
learned  to  appeal  to  British  precedents,  and  a  love  of  Hritish  institutions  began  to  take 
possession  of  their  minds.  Nothing  demonstrates  this  more  satisfactorily  than  the  con- 
trast between  their  inaction  during  1775-6,  and  their  united  and  hearty  action  during  the 
war  of  181J-15.  That  war,  which  may  be  regarded  as  an  episode  in  the  constitutional 
history  we  are  sketching,  teaches  to  all  who  are  willing  to  be  taught  several  important 
lessons.  It  showed  that  French-Canadians  had  not  forgotten  how  to  fight,  and  that  ac- 
cording as  they  were  trusted  so  would  they  fight.  No  better  illustration  can  be  given 
than  Chdteauguay,  where  Colonel  de  Salaberry  with  300  Canadian  militiamen  ami  a  few 
Highlanders  victoriously  drove  back  an  army  -jooo  strong.  The  Canadians  everywhere 
Hew  to  arms,  in  a  (juarrel,  too,  with  the  bringing  on  of  which  they  had  nothing  to  do. 
The  Governor  sent  the  regular  troops  to  the  frontiers,  and  confided  the  guardianship  of 
Quebec  to  the  city  militia,  while  men  like  Bedard  who  had  been  accused  of  "  treason," 
because  they  understood  the  spirit  of  the  Constitution  better  than  their  accusers,  were 
appointed  officers.  Successive  campaigns  proved,  not  onl)-  that  Canada  was  unconquer- 
able— even  against  a  people  then  forty  times  as  numerous — because  of  the  spirit  of  its 
people,  its  glorious  winters,  ami  northern  fastnesses,  but  also  because  an  unprovoked 
war  upon  Canada  will  never  command  the  united  support  of  the  people  of  the  States. 
When  the  war  was  declared  in  i,Si2,  several  of  the  New  England  States  refused  their  quotas 
of  militia.  The  Legislature  of  Maryland  declared  that  they  had  acted  constitutionally  in 
refusing.  .And  all  over  New  England  secession  was  seriously  threatened.  What  happened 
then  would  occur  again,  under  other  forms,  if  an  effort  were  made  to  conquer  four 
or  five  millions  of  Canadians,  in  order  to  make  them  citizens  of  free  States.  Should 
either  political  party  propose  it,  that  party  would  seal  its  own  ruin.  A  great  Christian 
people  will  struggle  unitedly  and  religiously  to  free  millions,  never  to  subdue  millions. 
Should  momentary  madness  drive  them  to  attempt  the  commission  of  the  crime,  the 
consequence  would  more  likely  be  the  disruption  of  the  Republic  than  the  concpiest  of 
Canada. 

So  much  the  episode  of  181 2-15  teaches,  read  in  the  light  of  the  present  day. 
When  the  war  was  over,  the  struggles  for  constitutional  development  were  resumed. 
Complicated  in  Lower  Canada  by  misunderstandings  of  race,  they  broke  out  in  "  the 
troubles"  or  sputterings  of  rebellion  of  1S37-38.  The  forcible  reunion  of  the  tv/o 
Canadas  in  1840  was  a  temporar)  measure,  necessitated  probably  by  those  troubles.  It 
led  to  friction,  irritations,  a  necessity  for  double  majorities,  and  perpetual  deadlocks.  Did 
not  Pitt  in  1791  foresee  these  as  the  sure  results  in  the  long  run  of  any  such  union, 
beautiful  in  its  simplicity  though  it  appears  to  doctrinaires  ?  The  confederation  of  British- 
America  in    1867  put  an  end   to    the  paralysis,  by  the    adoption  of    the  federal    principle, 


jii  li 


11 


QUEBEC. 


31 


and  the  ordained  extension  t)f  C;in;ul;i  to  its  natural  boundaries  of  three  oceans  on  three 
sides  and  the  watershed  of  the  American  continent  on  the  fourth.  I'ull  self-government 
having  now  been  attained   our  position  is  no  lon^'er  colonial. 

What,  then,  is  our  destiny  to  be?  Whatever  (iod  wills.  The  only  points  clear  as 
sunlij^ht  to  us  as  a  people  are,  that  Canada  is  free-,  antl  that  we  dare  not  l)r(!ak  up  the 
unity  of  the  grandest  i'^nipire  the  world  has  ever  known,  .\nne.\ation  has  been  advocated, 
but  no  one  has  proved  that  such  a  change  would  be,  eve-n  commercially,  to  our  advantage. 
We  would  get  closer  to  fifty  and  be  removeil  farther  from  two  hundred  millions. 
Politically,  Canada  would  cease  to  e.xist.  She  would  serve  merely  as  a  maki:-weight  to 
the  Republican  or  Democratic  party.  The  l-'rcMich-Canadian  element,  so  great  a  factor 
actually  and  potentially  in  our  national  life,  would  become  a  nullity.  We  would  surrender 
all  hopes  of  a  distinctive  future.  Strangers  would  rule  over  us;  for  we  are  loo  weak 
to  resist  tin;  ali(;n  forces,  and  too  strong  to  be  readily  assimilateil.  Our  neighijours  are  a 
great  people.  So  are  the  I'Vench  ami  the  (iermans.  Hut  H(,'igium  iloes  not  ])ray  to  be 
absorbed  into  1'" ranee,  and  Holland  would  not  consent  to  be  anne.xed  to  (u'riiiany. 
Locking  at  the  ([uestion  in  the  light  of  the  past  and  with  foresight  of  the  fulurt;,  and 
from  the  point  of  view  of  all  the  higher  considc-rations  that  •  sway  men,  we  s.i)-,  in  the 
emphatic  language  of  Scripture,  "  It  is  a  shame  evi'U  to  sptak  "  of  such  a  thing.  We 
would  repent  it  only  once,  and  that  would  be  forever.  Their  ways  are  not  our  ways  ; 
their  thoughts,  traditions,  history,  arc  not  our  thoughts,  traditions,  history.  The  occa- 
sional cry  for  Independence  is  more  lionourable ;  but,  to  break  our  national  continuity 
in  cold  blood,  to  cut  ourselves  loose  from  the  capital  and  centre  of  our  strengtii  !  to 
gain — what  ?  A  thousand  possibilities  of  danger,  and  not  an  atom  of  atkled  strength. 
What,  then,  are  we  to  do?  "Things  cannot  remain  as  they  are,"  we  are  toKl.  Who 
says  that  they  can  ?  They  have  been  changing  every  decade.  The  future  will  l)ring 
changes  with  it,  and  wisdom  too,  let  us  liope,  such  as  our  falliers  had,  to  enable  us  to  do  our 
duty  in  the  premises.  In  the  meantime,  we  have  enough  to  do.  We  ha\-e  to  simplify 
the  machinery  of  our  government,  to  make  it  less  absurdly  expensive,  and  to  disembarrass 
it  of  patronage.  We  have  to  put  an  emphatic  sto[)  to  the  increase  of  the;  public  debt. 
We  have  to  reclaim  half  a  continent,  and  throw  iloors  widi;  open  that  millions  may 
enter  in.  We  have  to  grow  wiser  and  better.  We  have  to  guard  our  own  heads  while 
we  seek  to  ilo  our  duty  to  our  day  and  generation.  Is  not  that  work  enough  for  the 
next  half  century  ?  No  one  is  likely  to  interfere  with  us,  but  we  are  not  thereby 
absolved  from  the  responsibility  of  kn  ping  up  the  defences  of  Halifax  and  Quebec,  and 
fortifying  Montreal  by  a  cincture  of  detached  forts.  These  cities  safe,  Canada  might 
be  invaded,  but  could  not  be  held.  Mut  wliat  need  of  defence,  when  we  are  assured 
that  "our  best  defence  is  no  defence."  Go  to  the  mayors  of  our  cities  and  bid  them 
dismiss  the  police.  Tell  bankers  not  to  keep  revolvers,  and  householders  to  poison 
their    watch -dogs.       .'\t    one  stroke    we   save    what    we   are    expending   on    all    the   old- 


32 


Quniiiic. 


fashiitiu'd  arraii^H'munts  of  thi-  Hark  ,\j;<s.      It  lias  l)ccii  iliscovcrcd  that  the  "  l)cst  dcft-nco 
is  no  ilc'lfiicf !" 

It  (Iocs  not    Ix-conic    yrown  men  to    drcain   dreams    in    l)roa(i    daylii,dit.       Wise    nu'n 
regard  facts.       lien-   is  tiir  Admiral's  siiip,  tiic  sliapdv  "  .\ortliam|>ton,"  in  the  liarlmiir  of 


:  ii' 


lit 


Till.  ("ITAUl  I.. 
I'nmi  H.  M.  S.  "  Nnrlluiinjiton." 

yuL'buc.      Come  on  board, 
and   from   tlic    (]uartcr-dfck 
'  taki-    a    \  icw    of    the    j^^rand    old    storied    rock. 

Whose  money  Imilt  that  \ast  Citadel  that  crowns  its  strength  ?  Who  j^^axc  us  those 
mighty  batteries  on  the  Le\is  hei;,dus  opposite  ?  What  en<'my  on  this  jilanet  could  taki; 
Quebec  as  lont^  as  the  "Northampton"  jiledii^es  to  us  the  command  of  the  sea?  And 
for  answer,  a  charmer  sa\s,  \<)u  would  be  far  stronger,  without  the  forts  and  without 
the  "  Northampton  !" 


Quebec: 

PICTURIiSyUH    AM)    UESCRII'TIVE. 


VIKW     1  K(lM    nil:    ()I.I>    MANOK    IKJUSK    AT    Bl'.AL'l'OK  1. 


QUEBI'X — the  spot  wIkm'o  tile  most  rcfiiKHl  civili/ation  of  the  C)kl  World  first  touched 
the  Iiarharic  \\il(hiess  of  tlie  New — is  also  tlic  s|)ot  where  tlie  larj^est  share  of  the 
pictures(Hif  ami  romantic  cleim-nt  has  i^fathcred  round  tin;  outlines  of  a  (jrand  though 
nigjjed  nature.       It  would  seem  as  if    those  early  heroes,  the  flower  of  l'"ranc(!'s  chivalry, 


34 


QUEJiHC. 


who  coiKiuert'tl  a  new  roimtry  fnun  a  savage  climate  and  a  savaj,'*-  race,  h.id  iinjirrssL'il 
the  features  of  their  natioiiaiit)'  on  this  rock  fortrt-ss  forever.  Ma)'  (Jiiehec  always 
retain  its  I'Vench  iiliosyncrasy !  The  shad(!s  of  its  hravt;  founders  claim  liiis  as  their 
rij^ht.      I'Vom  i)iain  and    I, aval    down   to    I  )(•    I  .('^vis   and    Montcalm.    lhc\    deserve  this 

monunient  tc.  loir  efforts  to  l)uild  up  ami  preserve  a  "New  I'Vance"  in  this  westi^rn 
world  ;  and  Wolfe  for  one  would  not  have  j;rud^'ed  that  the  memory  of  his  ^rallant  foe 
should  iiere  be  rlosely  entwineil  with  his  own.  .\!1  who  know  the  value  of  tin; 
minj;lin^;  of  diverse  elements  in  enriching  national  life,  will  rejoici;  in  the  pn^serxalion 
amonj.j  us  of  a  distinctly  I'rench  element,  blendiny  liarmoniously  in  our  Canadian 
nationality. 

"Saxnn  ami  Celt  .mil   Ni>rni.in  ari'  wp  ; " 


P 


and  we  may  well  he  jirouil  of  havinj^  within  our  borders  a  "New  I'rance: "  as  well  as  a 
"  Greater  Britain." 

Imafjination  could  hardly  have  devised  a  nobler  portal  to  tiie  Dominion  than  the 
mile-wide  stra  on  one  side  of  which  rise  the  j^reen  heij^hls  of  l.i^vis,  and  on  tin  other 
the  bold,  ab  'Utlines  of  Cape   Diamond.     To    the  traveller  from  tli     Old  World  who 

first  drops  anci.  .  under  those  dark  rocks  and  frowninj.;  ram|)arts,  the  co  '  il'ivil  must  pre- 
sent an  impressive  frontispiece  to  tile  unread  \()lume.  The  outlines  of  ih  ocky  ram  art 
and  its  crowning  fortress,  as  seen  from  a  distance,  recall  both  Stirlini,^  and  l.iii '•ni)reitsirin, 
while  its  aspect  as  viewed  from  the  foot  of  the  time-worn,  steep-roofed  old  houses  that 
skirt  the  heijjht,  carries  at  least  a  sus^^estion  of  Kdinburjfh  Castle  from  the  tirassmarket. 
To  the  home-bred  Canadian,  comimj;  from  the  llat  regions  of  Central  Canad.i  1)\'  the 
train  that  skirts  the  southern  shore-  and  sudilenly  funis  its  way  alon,i(  tlu'  abrupt,  wooded 
heijrhts  that  end  in  Point  Lt^vis,  with  cpiaint  steej)  ^abled  and  balconied  b'rench  houses 
climbin^r  the  rocky  ledi^es  to  the  riLjIit.  and  alfordiiiLj  to  curious  passenjjjers.  throuj^h  ojicii 
doors  and  windows,  many  a  iiaiAc  j^rlimpse  of  the  simple  domestic  life  ol  the  habilatis, 
the  first  sijijht  of  Quebec  from  the  terminus  or  tin;  ferry  station  is  a  n;\c'lalion.  It  is 
the  realization  of  dim.  hovirin;;-  \isions  conjured  u|)  by  the  literature  of  other  lands  more 
rich  in  the  |jicturesf]ue  element  born  of  anticpiity  and  historical  association.  <  )n  our 
Republican  neij^hbours.  the  effect  produced  is  the  same.  Ouebec  has  no  more  enthusiastic 
athnirers  than  its  hosts  of  American  visitors ;  and  no  writers  have  more  \  ividly  and 
appreciatively  described  its  peculiar  charm  than    Parkman   and    llowells. 

Lookinjj  at  Ouebec  first  from  the  opposite  heii(hts  of  l.('\i^.  and  then  passing; 
slowly  across  from  shore  to  shore,  the  strikinjj;  featurc-s  of  the  cil\'  and  its  sur- 
roundinjrs  come  ^railually  into  \ic;w,  in  a  m.inner  doubly  enc'hantin*,^  jf  it  happens 
to  be  a  soft,  misty  summer  mornini;.  .\t  first,  the  dim,  luij;e  mass  oi  tlu-  rock 
and  Citadel,  —  seeminjjjly  one  <^rand  fortification,  absorbs  the  allc-niion.  Then  the 
details    come    out,    one    after    another.         The    firm    lines    of     rampart     and    b.istion,    the 


QUIiliHC:    HcrURIiSQUE  AND    DliSCRinTllH. 


35 


shclvlnjj^  outlines  of  the  rock, 
Diiffcrin  rcrnuc  willi  its  ii.Ljiu 
I>a\ili()ns,  tlic  slope  of  Mountain 
liill.  the  Grand  Matlerv-.  tlie  eon- 
spieuoiis  pile  of  l.aval  I'niversit), 
tile  (lark  serrieil  mass  of  houses 
clusterini:,^  alonj;  the  foot  of  the 
rocks  and  risini;  i^radualU'  \\\i  the 
gentler  incline  into  which  these 
fall  away,  the  husy  qua\s,  the 
iaij^c  passenm'r  hoats  steaniinj;  in 
<ind  out  from  their  whar\-es,  a 
impress  the  stranger  with  the 
most  distincti\e  aspects  of  Oncliec 
i)efore   he   lands. 

As  soon  as  he  has  landed,  he  is 
impressed  by  other  features  of  its 
ancient  and  foreij^n  aspect.  '  The 
narrow,  crooked  lanes  that  do  dut\' 
for  streets,  the  >^rimy,  weather- 
beaten  walls  and    narrow  windows 


on    either   side,  the   steep-roofed   antique    French   houses,  the  cork-screw  ascent   towards 


36 


QUEBEC. 


\ 


H 


M 


I  ' 


the  upper  town,  the  rugg(;d  pavement  over  which  the  wheels  of  the  caldclic  noisily 
rattle,  recall  the  peculiarities  of  an  old  French  town.  And  before  Pres'--^tt  Gate  was 
sacrificed  to  modern  utilitarian  demands,  the  effect  was  intensified  by  the  novel  sen- 
sation— in  America — of  entering  a  walled  town  through  a  real  gate,  frowning  down 
as    from    a    media; val    storj'. 

The  short,  crooked  streets  of  Quebec,  diverging  at  all  kinds  of  angles,  make  it 
as  difficult  to  .  nd  one's  way  as  in  Venice  or  old  Boston.  It  has  grown,  like  old 
towns,  instead  of  being  laid  out  like  new  ones,  and  its  peculiarities  of  growth  have 
been  differentiated  to  a  remarkable  degree  by  the  exigencies  of  its  site  and  fortifications. 
The  "lie"  of  the  place  can  be  best  explained  by  saying  that  the  walls  embrace  a 
rudely-drawn  section  of  an  ellipse,  the  straight  side  of  wliich  divides  the  city  from 
the  comparatively  level  ground  of  the  country  in  rear  (towards  tln!  north-west),  while 
the  Citadel  occupies  the  western  corner  of  the  curve  which  follows  the  eilge  of  the 
precipice  abutting  on  the  St.  Lawrence,  turning  an  abrupt  corner  round  the  Seminary 
(iardens,  and  following  the  line  of  the  high  groun<l  till  it  descends  to  the  valley 
of  the  St.  Charles.  It  was  on  ////.*•  side  of  the?  natural  fortress,  to  which  Quebec 
owes  its  antiquity  and  its  pre-eminence  as  a  capital,  that  the  life  of  the  Okl  World 
left  its  first  trace  on  the  history  of  the  Canadian  wilderness.  I'or  here,  a  little  way  up 
the  river,  jactjues  Cartier  anchored  his  ships,  which  had  so  astounded  the  unso|)histicated 
savages  as  they  came,  like  tilings  of  life,  sailing  up  tiic  river.  Here,  too,  he  and 
ills  men  s]jent  the  long,  bitter  winter,  waiting  wearily  for  tlii'  slowly- coming  spring 
which  so  many  of  them   never  saw. 

But  there  are  pleasanler  associations  with  the  side  of  Quebec  which  the  visitor  usually 
sees  first.  As  we  walk  or  drive  up  Mountain  Hill  by  th<'  wintling  ascent  which  originally 
existed  as  a  rough  gully,  the  associations  are  all  of  Champlain,  the  Chevalier  Bayard 
of  the  French  r<;^/;;/<' and  the  founder  of  Quebec.  One  cannot  but  wonder  whether  there 
rose  before  his  inner  vision  a  picture  of  the  city  which  he  may  have  hoped  would  grow 
from  the  oak  antl  walnut-shaded  plateau  by  the  ri\cr.  and  up  the  sides  ot  the  rugged 
hill  tiiat  now  i)ears  its  mass  of  ancient  buihlings.  climbing  to  the  zig-zagged  walls  and 
bastions  that  crown  the  highest  point  of  what  was  then  ;i  bare  beetling  rock.  As 
he  watched  the  stately  trees  falling  under  the  strokes  of  his  sturdy  axe-men — where 
ilingy  warehouses  antl  high  tenements  are  now  dtmsely  massed  together  under  the  cliff 
— he  may  have  dreamed  of  a  second  Rouen,  the  queenly  cajjital  of  a  "  New  I'rance,"  giving 
laws  to  a  territory  as  illimitable  as  the  wilderness  of  hill  and  forest  that  stretched  away 
on  every  side  beyonil  the  range  of   eye  and   imagination. 

Bui  before  ascending  Mountain  Hill,  let  us  turn  aside  into  the  little  Notre  Dame 
Place,  where  stands  a  small  quaint  church  with  high-jjeakt^d  roof  antl  .intique  belfry,  one 
of  the  oldest  buildings  in  Quebec,  for  its  walls  date  back  at  least  before  1690  when  the  ffite 
of   Notre   Uame  des  Victoires  was  established  to  commemorate  the   defeat   of  .Sir  William 


III    '  I 


QUEIiEC:    PICTURESQUE  AND  DESCRIPTIVE. 


37 


I'hipps.  It  was  close  to  this  spot  that  Champlain  built  his  lirst  fort  and  warehouse  for 
stores  and  peltries.  A  little  farther  to  the  left — where  the  Champlain  Market,  built  out 
of  the  stones  of  the  old  Parliament  buildings,  presents  on  market  days  a  busy  and 
picturesque  tableau — stood  the  first  •'  Abitation  de  Ouebecq,"  perpetuated  for  us  by 
Champlain's  inartistic  pencil,  with  its  three  tall,  narrow  wooden  houses  set  close 
together,  its  store-house  and  dove-cote,  its  loop-holed  gallery  running  round  the  second 
storey,  its  moat  and  surrounding  wall.  Just  above  frowned  the  dark-brown  rock;  the 
blue  waters  of  the  St.  Lawren':e  almost  washed  its  outer  wall ;  while  the  gardens 
which  Champlain  delighted  to  lay  out  and  plant  with  roses,  lay  on  three  sides,  to 
grace  the  wilderness  abode.  Now  there  are  no  gardens  and  no  roses, — only  a  busy 
market-place  that  blooms  out  periodically,  to  bo  sure,  with  (lowers  and  fruit;  masses 
of  buildings,  narrow  streets  and  crowded  docks,  where  the  tides  of  the  St.  Lawrence 
washed  the  shingly  beach ;  huge  piles  of  wharves  driving  the  river  still  farther 
to  bay ;  loaded  wains  carrying  the  produce  of  the  Old  World  from  the  great  ocean 
vessels  or  the  produce  of  the  New  World  to  them  ;  light  French  caUclws  dashmg  by 
the  primitive  carts  of  the  market-folk,  their  drivers  exchanging  gay  badinage  as  they 
pass  ;  grave,  long-robed  priests,  or  jaunty  French  clerks  or  lads  in  the  Semin.iry  uniform 
hurrying  to  and  fro  and  replying  in  I-'rench  if  you  ask  them  a  question  in  English ; — 
all  the  busy  life  of  a  complex  civilization,  combined  with  an  vir  of  anticpiity  which 
makes  it  difficult  to  realize  that  even  three  centuries  ago  the  scene  was  one  unbroken 
wilderness. 

Pursuing  Champlain  Street  a  little  farther,  the  lower  town  presents  not  a  few 
characteristic  studies.  A  quaint  old  street — "  Sous  Le  Cap " — lies  so  close  under  the 
preci[Mce  surmounted  by  the  Cirand  Battery  and  Laval  University  that  no  casual  passer- 
by would  think  of  penetrating  its  obscurity.  Its  dilapidated  old  houses,  with  their  backs 
to  the  cliff,  are  braceil  against  their  opposite  neighbours  by  cross-beams  of  timber 
to  keep  them  upright,  and  even  tlie  narrow  P'rench  carts  can  with  difficulty  pass 
through  what  looks  more  like  a  .Scottish  wynii  than  a  Canadian  street ;  while  the  old  red- 
capped  liabitant  who  sits  calmly  smoking  at  his  door  might  have  ste|)ped  out  of  a  I'rench 
picture.  If  we  pass  down  to  the  docks,  we  may  see  ocean  vessels  preparing  for  departure, 
perhaps,  o'.t  'v\  thf  stream,  a  timber  ship  loading  her  cargo, — the  piles  of  fragrant  wood 
suggesting  the  distant  forests  where,  in  the  clear,  sharp  winter  days  the  men  from  the 
lumber  cam])  were  busy  hewing  down  and  stjuaring  the  giant  pines,  the  growth  of  cen- 
turies of  summers. 

Mut  it  is  time  for  us  to  retrace  our  steps  from  this  region  of  shipping  and  docks 
and  piers,  of  warehouses  and  offices,  stretching  along  the  ledge  underneath  the  Citadel. 
We  may  follow  back  Champlain  Street  into  Little  Champlain  Street,  and  pass  on 
to  the  foot  of  Break-neck  Steps,  a  shorter  and  more  direct  route  than  the  circui- 
tous   one   of    Mountain    Hill,    though    there    is   a    still    easier    mode    of    a.scent    provided 


tA 


QUEBEC. 


in  the  new  elevator,  wliicli  traiviports  you  to  tlie  terrace  above  without  any  exertion. 
On  a  market  day,  tlie  steps  are  alive  with  the  good  folks  of  the  upper  town 
going  down  to  market  or  to  business ;    and  the  busy  scene  below — the  crowd  of    people 


5^         "air  "- 


sous    LK  CAP. 


and    conveyances    in    tlui    market-  '""'"^  .-.  . ^ 

place,    with    the    old    houses    built  ...— 

close  against  the  cliff,  live  liackj^round  of  steamboats  and  shipping,  auii  the  tci-racc  with 
its  light,  graceful  jiagodas  against  the  sky  above—  affords  one  of  tlic  man)-  bits  of 
contrast  in  which  Quebec  abounds. 

A    few   minutes    bring    us    to    tlu;    top    of    the    stairs    and    out    on     what    was    old 
Durham  Terrace,  which,  e.xtended  at  the  suggi-stion   of   Lord    Dufferin    to   the   foot  of  the 


QUEBEC:    PICTURESQUE  AND   DESCR/PT/l'E. 


39 


placis  of  the  Citadel.  lias  ap- 
propriately taken  its  present 
name  and,  supplied  witli 
lijfht  pavilions  at  the  points 
commandirijj  the  most  strik- 
injf  views,  now  bears  the 
.'laine  of  thi;  popular  Gov- 
ernor who  so  warmly  ap- 
preciated the  old  city.  It 
affords  one  of  the  noblest 
promenades  that  a  city 
could  possess,  from  the  ma_<r- 
nificent  view  it  commands ; 
while  the  old  portion  which, 
as  IDurham  Terrac(.-,  perjjetu- 
ated  tilt-  name  of  one  of  the 
ablest  British  (iovernors  of 
Canada,  is  also  the  centre  of 
till?  most  romantic  an<l  heroic 
mein(,ries  that  cluster  round 
Quebec.  I' or.  close  b)',  in  the 
time  of  Cha;n[jlain,  was  built 
the  rude  stockaded  fort,  within 
which  he  and  his  men  were  fain 
to  take  refuire  from  the  incur- 
sions of  the  fierce  Iro(]uois ; 
while  here,  also,  rose  the  old 
Chateau  St.  Louis  which,  for 
two  centuries,  uncU-r  the  l-'lciir 
dc  Lis  or  tlu;  Union  jack,  was 
the  C('ntrc;  of  Canailiaii  j^oxcrn- 
ment  and  the  heart  ami  core 
of  Canadian  defence  ajrainst 
Iroijuois,  British  or  .\mcric.in 
assailants.  The  Chateau  of  St. 
Louis  —  burned  down  at  last. 
its  stones  helpini;  to  Iniild 
this  broad  tcrr.ice — mitrht  fur- 
nish material  for  half  a  dozen 


I 


i.ooki.m;   LI'   I  KD.M    rui;.  wmakves. 


11 


40 


QUEnr.c. 


It    ! 

III. 


r  i!| 


QUHBI-.C      I'IcrrRESQUR    AND    DHSCRirrnE. 


41 


romances.  Lookinj^  across  from  the  busy  mass  of  swarming  life  below,  and  the  Hitting 
steamers  and  stately  ships  with  wliicii  the  river  is  studded,  you  see,  first,  the  picturesque 
heights  of  Levis,  on  whicli  rise,  tier  after  tier — from  the  busy  town  of  South  Quebec 
and  the  Grand  Trunk  buildings,  a  town  in  themselves, — village  after  village,  glittering 
church  iipires,  massive  conventual  buildings  gleaming  out  of  embosoming  foliage,  till 
the    eye    follows    the  curve   of    the  height    down    again   to    the    river.        Thence  it  follows 

still    the    line    of    the    lower    iiills    that    bound 
the    receding    shores  of    the  widening   expanse 
— the  bold   outline,   looming   perhaps,  through 
on(!   of  the    frequent   .sea- mists,    of    the 
richly-wooded,    hamlet-sprinkled    Isle    of 


CUSTO.M     IIOUSL, 

Orleans, — the  old  He  de   Hacchus. 

— then    nortliward.    across    tiie    soft    gray    e\]>ansi'    of    river,  with    its 

white   sails    or   dark  steam-craft,   to  the    hither  shore,   with    the    light 

mist   of   Montmorency   on   the  distant  woods,  and  the  grand    outlines 

of    the   Laurcntian    Mills    tlial   here    tirst    meet  the    river  whose  name 

they  bear:   while    nearer  still,   the    dreiian    front    and  dome    of    the    Custom    House,    the 

mass  of   l.av.il    riii\ersity  and   the   lowers  and  steeples  of   th<'   up|)er  town   till   in   a  varied 

foreground.      'i"o  the   right,  the   terrace  stretches  away   in  a   promenade,   till   it   is  cut  short 

l)\    tlu'  steep  slope  of  the  Citadel   crownetl   by   ranijiart  and   bastion,  while    behind   lie   the 

shady    walks    of    the   (iovernor's   Carden.   surrounding  the    pillar    dcilicati'd    to    the    joint 

memor\-  of   Wolfe    and    Montralm.    It   is    a    view    to    which    no    artist's    pencil    could    do 

justice,   since    no    picture    could    give   it    in   its    com])leteness,   and    it   would   take    nian\    to 


42 


QUEBEC. 


fully  illustrate  its  ever-varyin}r  aspect  from  sunrise  to  sunset,  or  when  the  mooniijjht 
enfolds  it  in  a  serener  and  more  solemn  beauty. 

One  might  dream  away  a  summer  day  or  a  summer  night  on  Dufferin  Terrace; 
but  the  present  claims  attention  as  well  as  the  past.  Passing  to  the  rear,  you  can 
wander  through  the  shad)'  walks  of  the  Cjovernor's  tiarden  or  sit  on  the  iron 
seats  near  the  "  Ring,"  and  call  up  before  the  imagination  the  stirring,  martial 
scenes  so  often  enacted  on  tiie  (haniic  Place  before  the  chateau.  Thert;  the  rem- 
nant of  the  unfortunate  Hurons  pitched  their  tents  after  the  butchery  of  thousands 
of  their  number  by  the  Iroquois  on  the  Isle  of  Orleans,  and  there  they  were  allowed  to 
build  a  small  fort.  Thither,  too,  came  a  deputation  of  forty  Iroquois,  tattooed  and 
naked,  vociferating  an  appeal  for  peace  to  the  Onontliio  or  Governor,  in  the  summer  of 
1666,  when  the  gallant  regiment  of  Carignan-.Salieres  had  at  last  succeeded  in  instilling 
fear  into  their  savage  breasts.  Here,  also,  many  a  French  Governor,  as  the  represent- 
ative of  His  Most  Catholic  Majesty,  surrounded  by  a  bewigged  and  plumed  retinue, 
received  with   due  circumstance   the  keys  of  the  Castle  of  St.    Louis. 

Hut  it  is  time  that  we  ascended  to  the  Citadel,  at  which  we  have  been  so  long 
looking  from  below.  A  flight  of  steps  takes  us  up  from  the  western  enil  of  Dufferin 
Terrace    to    the    glacis.  Here     we     again     stop     to    look     down.         It     is     the    view 

from  the  terrace,  expanded  in  every  direction.  At  our  feet  lies  the  bus)-  panorama 
of  river  and  docks ;  the  Grand  Trunk  ferr)-boat,  like  a  tiny  /'nt/caii,  is  stealing 
across  the  ri\i-"r  in  a  wide  curve,  to  avoid  the  pressure  of  the  tide.  On  the  other  side 
we  see  trains  arriving  and  departing,  ;;teaming  along  the  rock)  ledge  of  the  opposite 
height  upward  towartls  Montreal  or  downward  on  the  way  to  the  sea.  Just  below  the 
Citadel  stretches  the  long  massive  dock  of  the  Allan  Steamship  Company,  at  which,  if  it  is 
Saturday  morning,  liie  Liverpool  steamer  is  lying,  getting  read)'  for  departure.  \'.'ins 
loaded  with  freigiit  or  Inggage  are  discharging  their  contents  into  the  hold.  Passengers 
are  stepping  on  board  to  take  jjossession  of  their  cabins,  accompanied  by  friends  reluctant 
to  say  the  final  adieu.  One  looks  with  a  strange  interest,  never  dulled  by  repetition, 
at  the  black  hull  about  to  bear  its  precious  freight  across  the  wide  ocean  to  "  the  under 
world,"  unwitting  of  tile   peril   it   is  going  to  brave. 

l-rom  the  terrace  we  climb  by  a  fligiit  of  somt;  two  huntlred  and  lift)  steps  to 
tile  toji  of  tile  glacis.  .\  path  round  its  grassy  slope  Icails  to  the  entrance  of  the 
Citadel  itself — ascending  from  .St.  Louis  .Street,  built  up  on  each  side  h)'  solid  stone 
walls.  Passing  through  the  celel)rated  chain  gates,  we  find  ourselves  in  the  spacious 
area  made  by  the  widened  ditch  and  retiring  bastion,  the  levt;l  sward  being  used 
for  a  parade-ground.  On  the  green  sides  of  the  earthwork  above  the  ditch 
goats  are  peacefully  grazing,  giving  an  aspect  of  rural  trantpiillit)  that  presi:nts  a  pic- 
turesque contrast  to  the  massive  portals  of  Dalhousie  Gate,  with  its  guard-rooms  built 
into    the    thickness    of    the    arch    on    either    side.       Entering    through   it,  we    are    at  last 


h 


QUEBEC.     nicrikESQUE  ASn    PESCKirriVE. 


43 


within  tho  Citadel  itself,  which,  spreading  over  forty  acres  its  labyrinth  of  ditch  and 
earthwork  ami  rampart  and  bastion,  impresses  us  at  once  witii  the  appropriateness 
of  its  proud  title  of  the  Canadian  Gibraltar.  Ascending  to  the  broad  gravel  walk  on 
the  top  of  the  bastion,  we  retrace  our  steps  toward  the  river  by  the  parallel  line  of  wall 
on  the  inner  side  of  the  ditch,  pierced  with  embrasures  for  the  cannon  that  command 
every  avenue  of  approach.  Passing  on,  we  take  in  glimpses  of  the  ever-glorious 
view  which  bursts  upon  us  at  last  in  all  its  magnificence,  as  we  stand  on  the  King's 
Bastion  besiile  the  tiag-staff, — a  view  which,  take  it  all  in  all,  it  is  not  too  much  to 
say  is  unsurpassed  in  North  America.  Quebec  —  with  its  quaint  contrasts  of  okl 
and  new — lies  at  our  feet,  the  fringe  of  buildings  anil  wharves  at  the  foot  of  Cape 
Diamond  literally  so,  the  nMuainder  of  the  city  clustering  about  and  up  the  lunght,  like 
Athens  about  her  Acropolis.  Across  the  river  studded  with  craft  of  all  imaginable 
variety — from  the  huge  primitive  raft  that  hardly  seems  to  move,  to  the  swift, 
arrowy  steam-tug  or  tlu-  stately  ocean-ship  that  spreatls  her  sails  to  catch  the  breeze 
— the  eye  ascends  the  heights  of  Levis,  beyond  the  masses  of  railwa\'  buildings  to  the 
umlulating  curves  in  which  nestle  the  clusters  of  tiny  I-'rench  houses,  with  their  great 
protecting  churches;  then  it  follows  the  widening  river,  studded  with  sails,  to  the  dim 
blue  woods  and  distant  hamlets  of  Orleans ;  on,  still,  to  the  bold  mountains  that 
form  so  grand  a  background  to  the  cultivated  slopes  which  ilesceiul  to  the  long  village 
street  of  the  Ueauport  road,  with  its  church  towers  guiiling  the  eye  to  the  Mont- 
morency cleft  or  emboli  lit  lire,  in  which,  on  a  very  clear  day,  you  can  just  discern  the 
faint  white  spray  ascending  from  the  I'all  ,  and  farther  on,  to  Caj)  Tourmente  and 
the  blue  mountain  of  St.  .'\nne.  NeariM-,  the  glance  returning  takes  in  the  winding 
St.  Charles,  the  outlying  suburbs  of  St.  Joi  i  and  St.  Roch  ami  St.  .Sauveur,  the 
crooked  line  of  the  city  wall,  the  green  turf  and  pojjlars  of  the  Iisplanade,  iIk; 
shady  grounds  and  Officers'  Quarters  of  the  .\rtill(My  Barracks,  llu:  Hotel  Dieu, 
Laval  University  with  its  belfry,  the  towers  of  the  Basilica,  the  (iothic  turrets  of 
the  Mnglish  Cathedral,  whih;,  just  below,  we  ha\e  a  binl's-eye  view  of  1  Juffcrin  icrrace 
and  its  pavilions ;  of  the  Governor's  Garden,  with  the  top  of  Montcalm's  monument  rising 
above  the  trees ;  of  the  line  of  Champlain  Street  and  Champlain  Market,  and  the  rows 
of  tall  French  houses  that  rise  up  against  the  dark,  slaty  cliff,  with  its  fringe  ami  tufts 
of  scanty  vegetation  ;  of  the  line  of  wharves  and  docks,  steamboats  and  steamships,  till 
the  field  of  view  is  suddenly  curtailed  by  the  abutments  of  the  cliff  on  which  we 
stand. 

But  there  are  other  points  of  view,  so  we  pass  on  along  the  entrance  front  of  the 
Officers'  Quarters,  a  portion  of  v.hich  is  set  apart  for  the  summer  residence  of  the 
Ciovernor-General.  It  is  not  a  very  imposing  vice-regal  abode ,  but  the  simplicity  of 
the  accommodation  and  the  restricted  space  are  more  than  atoned  for  b)'  the  noble 
vistas  of  river  and  height  and  mountain  commanded  by  the  deepl)-embrasured  windows. 


m 


44 


Qunnnc. 


In  a  line  witli  llic  Officers'  Oiiaitcrs  arc  tin-  liospiial.  the  maj^aziiu's  and  llic  ()l)Sfrv- 
ator\',  where-  tlic  falliiiL;  black  liall  skives  the  lime  ilail\',  at  one  o'clock,  to  the  sliippinj^ 
below.  ()ntsiclt'  llie  (ioviTiior-lii'tU'ral's  Oiiarlfrs,  ami  extending;  towards  tlic  Kinjj's 
Bastion,  a  platform  has  been  erected  which,  on  summer  fete-nitrhts,  serves  as  a  prome- 
nade imiciiie  and  wonderfid,  from  which  "  fair  women  and  brave  men  "  look  down 
five  hundred   feet   into  the  dark  abyss   below,    sparkiinjr    witii   myriads  of   lights  L;leaminif 

b'om      city,      heiijht 

-  — ■•=^' -.""-'I       and   rixcr. 

At  tlu'  Prince's 
islion,  on  the 
western  an^le  of  the 
ortress.  where  the 
•'  Prince's  I'fatlu'r," 
c,ir\ed  in  stone, 
commemorates     the 


visit  of  IJle  Prince  of  W'.lles,  the 
\-ii'w  is  still  me''<'  extensive.  West- 
ward, we  look  u]i  the  river,  to  the 
green  bluff  curving;  into  \\'olf(?'s 
Cove  and  Sillerv,  while  across  we 
still  have  before  us  the  varied  line 
of  the  opposite  heiiL^hts,  with  their 
long    street     of    old     Irench     houses 

cri'eping    just    imder    its    vvoodeil    sicK-s,    and    a    little    faither    to     the     light    sou     catch 
tile     gleam     of     the     steeples     of     New     Liverpool. 

After  the  eye  has  been   partially  satistied  with  gazing   on   this  grand    panorama,  we 
may   stroll    leisurely  along    the    wall,    taking    in    the  ever -shifting   views   from   the  \arious 


) 


it 


QUEBEC.    P/CJ  URESQUE  AND  DESCRJJ'i'jrE. 


45 


vii:\v  IKOM    \\\v  chadki,. 

points,  and  ()l)scr\in)^  tlii^  niassivcncss 
of  ilic  Kastions  and  t-artliworks,  tliat  witli  many 
a  hcwildi-riiiL;'  zij^f/as;'.  cnconiiiass  the:  contra!  forti- 
lication.  As  wc  pass  hack  tliron^li  the  cliain  L;atcs, 
let  us  stop  In  look  into  tli<'  casemates,  or  rooms 
l)\iilt  in  tlic  intiM'ior  of  tlic  massive  cartluvorlv  ()nc  catclu's 
a  LTJimp^c,  llirou'^h  tlic  intervening;  darkness,  of  a  lighted  ul- 
terior, remmduii^  us  of  a  Hutch  picture,  throwing'  a  hit  ol 
domestic  life  into  stronij  hLjiit  and  shade.  1  h're  are  rooms  whtM'e  the 
soldiers  and  tlieir  famiUes  resi(K',  tlie  solid  earthwork  al)OVC  and  around 
them,  ileep  windows  letlini;-  in  the  li^hl  and  air.  Before  leavinj.;  the  precincts 
of  the  Citailel,  takt'  a  look  at  the  rock  on  which  it  is  hiiilt  — an  uneven,  circular 
surface  of  lis^lil  j;ra\  rock  hearini,;  the  soitbriijiict  of  "  Moy's  liack,"  No  I'rench  or 
ancient  assciciations  attach  to  th<'  Citadel,  except  to  one  mat;a/ine  near  the  I'rince's 
Bastion,  the  inner  portion  ol  which  seems  to  heloni;  to  the  i'rench  itc^inic.  heini^ 
built  of  ruhhk',  the  outei'  casing  only  iR-im;  modern.  The  plans  for  tlu'  pri-scnt 
Citadel  were  supervised  hy  the  Iron  Duke,  thoui^h  he  never  saw  the-  place.  The  cliain 
gates    let  us  out  into  a    sort  of   extension    of    the  ditch,    from  which  we  eniergt    b)-  the 


m 


t  I 


I 


46 


QUlifiliC. 


'  1 
1  I 


II  ;s 


MONUMKM      11)    VVOl.ll.    AMI    MONK. MM. 


sally-port.      From    thence,  a  path  leads  over   the  broken   ^jroiind 

of    tlie    "Plains"    to    the    l)all-eanri(l^e    lieUi.      As    we    pass    we 

shall  not  fail  to  note  tiie  broken  },nassy  curves  ami  monnils  that 

preserve  the  outlines  of  the  old  I'rencii  earthworks  -the  prede- 
cessors of  liie  pii'seni  fortifications, —a  prom- 
inent   and      interesting     object.       Approach- 

\\v^     the      Martrllo      tower     we     are     olilij^ed 

to    jro    out    on    tile    St.    I.ouis    ro.-iii,   or    the 

Cluiiiiii  i/f  la   (iroiiiif  . ///iV,  as  it   was  called 

in    the  old    i'nneh    period.       I'ollowini^   this 

still    westward,   .1    turn    to    the    li'ft,   between 

the    turnpike    and    tiie    race-course,    takes  us 

down    to  some  liarren   and   neijlected-iookinjif 

proiMid  on   wiiich  stamis   \\'olf<-'s  nionnnieiit, 

and  a  little  fartlni-  on,  a  road  leads  down- 
wards   to     tiie     Cove     wiiere    Wolfe    landed 

his     troops     ijie    niLjht     l)efore     the     iiattle, 

when     even     Montcalm     at     first    refused     to 

attach    imporlanre    to  what   he    thouirht   was 

"only    Mr.    W'olfi-,    with   a  small    parly,   come;    to   Ijurn    a    few    iiouses,    Ami    return."      .\ 

road  now  winds  down  tlie  face 
of  tile  ciitl  anioni;  the  strajj- 
.ti;lini,f  pines  wliere,  in  Wolfe's 
lime,  tliere  was  only  ;i  rouj^di 
jTull)'  \\\)  wiiich  Ik'  and  his  sol- 
diers scramlihd.  draeLjiuLj  with 
them  a  six  -  pounder  -  their  only 
^un  -which  played  no  iiu-an 
[)arl  in  i^rainiiit;'  liie  victory. 
Xow  tiu'  (piiet  l)ay.  with  its 
rafts  and  lunilier-piles  and  pass- 
ine  craft,  is  peacefid  enough, 
and  in  tli<'  soft  purple  light 
of  a  summer  evening,  seems 
to  iiarmonize  less  with  martial 
memories  than  with  the  asso- 
ciation with  (iray's  J'-ic^y  be- 
(jueathcd  to  it  by  Wolfe,  who, 
on  the  night  before   the   decisive 


llMl.-UALL,    KKU.M     1U1-.    I'KINch.s    IIASIIO.S. 


QUFJUIC:    PICTURESQUE  AND  DESC/a/'/7l'E. 


47 


ii 


WOl.l'K'ri    CUXL. 


p 


48 


QUEBEC. 


action,  npcatfd  luTf,  wiili  perhaps  some  sad  presentiment  of  iinpendinjj  fate,  the 
stanza  — 

"  Tl>c  liii.isi  of  [icr.ililry.  tlic  |hiiii|)  uI  [lower, 

Ami  .ill  ill. II  lie.iuty,  all  that  wraith  e'er  ^'V4t, 
Await  alike  the  incvitalile  hour 
The  paths  nl  j;'"i')   I'''"'  '"H  '"  'he  (jravc  I " 

Retracinjj  our  steps  to  the  St.  l.oiiis  road,  we  follow  it  straij^ht  liark  to  the  city, 
notinjf  tile  tine  new  pile  of  l)iiililinj,'s  erected  for  the  Houses  of  I'.irli.iineiit,  just  beyond 
whicii  we  pass  throu^li  one  of  the  old  jrates  of  yiiebec,  the  .St.  l.oiiis  (iati-,  now 
massively  rebuilt  witli  embrasures  and  Norman  towers  -one  of  the  tiiree  still  to  In; 
preserved    to    tht-    city.  Mut    it     is    not    the    old    .St,    Louis    date,    with    its     weather- 

beaten  superstructun-  anil  zij,'/aj,^  appro.uh.  \\  lien  the  e.xcessive  newness  has  somewhat 
worn  off,  it  will  doubtless  be  much  mon-  imposinjr  than  its  predecessor,  and  more  fitted, 
like  its  neij^jhbour,  Kent  (iate.  Iiuilt  at  her  Majesty's  expense,  to  iiold  up  its  head  in 
a    pro^jrcssive    aije,   which    does    not    ap|jreciate    dilapitlation,   howe\ir    picturestjue. 

I'assin^f  throui^h  Si.  l.ouis  Ciati'.  with  its  new  Xoiinan  turrets,  wi'  ha\c  to  our  riijlu  the 
wimlinjr  ascent  to  the  Citadel  ,uid  to  our  left  the  I'.splanade  ;  while  at  the  corner  of  the 
St.  l.ouis  Hotel  we  are  aj^^ain  in  the  business  centre  of  the  upjier  town,  .md  soon  come 
to  the  open  area  of  the  Tlace  d'Armt-s,  whence  we  pass  into  Huade  .Street,  on  which 
stands  the  new  Post-OlTue,  a  handsomi;  buildini;  of  j^ray  cut-stone,  plain  but  in  i^^ood  taste, 
with  two  short  Ionic  pill, us  at  the  entrance.  The  old  I'ost-OlTice  which  preceded  it  hail 
a  history.  syniboliz(;d  b\  a  i'Vench  inscription  under  the  sIljii  of  the  Chieii  d'Or,  or 
(ioldeii  Dojv,  which  le^fend.u-)  auiinal  still  retains  his  post  o\-er  the  entrance  o*'  the  pri'sent 
buildinij.  This  inscription  was  the  expression  of  the  wroiii^rs  sulfered  b\  the  ori^nnal 
owner  a  merchant  nameil  I'l'ilibert— at  the  hands  of  the  Intendant  liiyol  of  unsavoury 
memor\.      It    ran,    in   old    1  uhlIi — 


.11  VN  nirrN  ijvi  kiini;k  i'os, 

I-.N    I.K    I.  ilSCKANI-   JK   I'KIMis    MiiN    KKI'OS, 
VN   TIM      VIKMiUA    (.IVl    NISI      I'AS   VKNV 
QVK   Jl-    .MDKIJKAV   IJVI    .MAVKA    MOKllV." 


i1 


lejjcnd  ly  be  freely  translated,  "  /  hide  iiiv  time"  Poor  I'hilibert  was  never  able 
to  put  his  ireat  into  execution.  Ivs  life  and  his  |)lans  for  revenj^e  beinjr  suddenly  brought 
to  an  end  one  day  on  Mountain 
,it  the  liuendant's  instillation, 
who  came  all  the  way  from  1 
assassin  to  his  refut^e  in  tlv 
;md   the   s\nil)olic  doir  over   tin 


ill.  b\'  a  swortl-th.rust  from  a  I'Vench  ofticer,  no  doubt 
story  hatl    a    s<;cpiel,   howe\cr.       I'hilibert's    brother, 

ux  as  his  (rxt^cutor  and  blood-avenj^er.  tracked  the 
ist  Indies,  and  slew  him  there.  Champlain's  bust, 
iranct;,   with    the    sii'ii   of    "The   ("loldeii    Dot:"    on    an 


inn    (lose 


connect    the    new     I'ost-Ol'fice    with    the    memories    of    old    Ouebec,    while 


w 


QLhliliL:    I'K  ll'HliSQrn  Ah'D  PliSiRH'TIVF.. 


49 


the  nanif  of  one  of  the  streets  at  the  corner  of  which  it  stands  —Hiiatle  Street — recalls 
thi'  pahniest  days  of  the  i-'rcnch  n'gime,  under  Louis  Huade,  CoiiiU  de  l-rontenac.  l-rom 
here  Mountain  Hill  b'-jrins  its  circuitous  iUsc<'nt,  and  on  the  opposite  side  is  the  old- 
fashioned-buililin),',  ()ri>,dnally  the  Arcld)ishop's  Palace,  which  has  been  used  for  many 
years  as  the   Parliament   Muildin^'s, 

C'loinj,^  down   Mountain    Hill  from  hence,  we   comi;    to    thi;    dilapiilateil  stairway,    the 
anti(iue,    ^aml)rel-roof<'d     buildinyjs     beside 
it  beinjif  very  cliaracteristic  of  tix-  old  city. 
Hut    we    will     not    ilescenil     to    the    lower 
town,    but    walk     back    up     Buaile    Street 
till  we  come   to    what,  until    re- 
cently, was  the  mark(;t-place    of 
the  upper  town,  now  trans- 
ferred, iiowever,  to  the  open 
space  in  front  of  St.  John's 
Gate.      On  one  side  of 
the  wide,    open    square. 


Kli.NI     GAIli. 

stands  the  Hasilica,  as  the  French 
Cathedral  is  called,  linked  with  some 
of  the  oldest  memories  of  the  settlement 
of  Oueliec.  It  hardly  looks  its  aji^e,  and 
is  not  b\'  any  means'  so  imposinij  as  Notre 
Dame,  of  Montreal.  It  w;is  beL,nin  b\  Bishop 
l.a\al  ill  1647.  and  was  consecrated  in  1666, 
under  the  name  of  the  Church  of  tile  Im- 
maculate Conception.  Its  massive  fa(adc,  with  its  tower  on  one  side  and  its  tall  spire 
on  \.\\v.  other,  jrives  an  impression  of  a  rare  solidity  within,  and  the  lofty  arches  of  the 
nave  would  have  a  Imk;  effect,  if  it  were  not  finished  in  a  cold  and  ilead  florid  .Renais- 
sance style,  wiiicli  looks  (piiti-  out  of  k((q)in<;-  with  the  homely  anti(]uit\-  of  the  "  t^ray 
lady  of  the  Xorth."  Hut  the  main  cliann  of  the  buildintj  lies  in  its  lontj  association 
with    the  religious    life  of    brench-Canada,    from   the   da\  s  of    Le  Jiuine    and    1  )e  Jogues, 


hi.     JlillN.h    I, All.. 


Ill 


%>. 


1 


50 


QUEBEC. 


\\ 


1 1 


Miulanic  tie  la  Pcltric  and  Marie  ck-  I'lncarnaticin.  Within  these  walls  many  an  ago- 
nized vow  and  prayer  has  tjone  iii;  from  the  early  martyrs  and  heroes  of  th(!  Canadian 
Mission  for  the  conversion  of  Huron  and  Iroqviois,  and  for  safety  from  the  murderous 
attacks  of  their  savaj:|ie  foes.  Here,  too,  have  echoed  the  Te  Deums  of  a  grateful  colony, 
in  the  joy  of  some  signal  deliverance  or  decisive  victory.  The 
somewhat  gaudy  decoration  of  tiie  present  interior  seems  to 
fade  away  as  we  go  hack,  in  tiiought,  to  tiie  days  when  the 
bare  rafters  over-arclied  the  self-exiled  worshippers  whose 
needs  and  enthusiasm  mingled  in  jirayers  of  pathetic  earnest- 
ness to  Him  in  whose  cross  and  sufferings  they  decMiied 
themselves  sharers. 

It  is  a   natural  transition   from  the  Basilica  to  the  Semi- 
nary, and  a  few  steps  lead  through  the  massive  open  iron  gates 
of   Lav.il  University,  along  the  narrow  passage  that  hrings 
us  to  tile  tloor  of  tiie  .Seminar)'  chapel.      This  chai)el  is  only 
a  hundretl  years  old,  Mr.  Le  Moine  tells  us,  and  its  chief 
historic  association   is  that  of  having  served  as  a  military 


'^ 


OUI'.nHC :    PICTURESQUE  AND  DESCRIPTIVE. 


51 


[irisoii  for  Aiiifiican  orticers 
takt-n  prisoners  of  war  in 
tlu;  attact<  In  Arnold  and 
Montgomery,  Hut  the 
Seminary  was  founded  by 
Bisliop  Laval  in  1663,  about  the  time  that  tlu'  Hasilica  was  complett^d.  Laval  University 
is  a  secular  off-shoot  of  the  Seminary  proper,  which  was  founded  for  theoloirical  education 
only, — this  beinj;;  still  the  object  of  the  Grand  Seniinain:  The  buildin}f»  of  the  Semi- 
nary enclos(!  the  site  of  tiie  first  hoiisf  built  b)  the  first  I''rench  settler  Hebert,  and  its 
garden,  wilii  tlie  neighbouring  streets,  occupies  the  land  first  cleareii  for  agricultural  pur- 
poses. The  University  building,  with  its  spacious  new  wings,  extends  to  the  very  edge 
of  the  promontory,  and  from  its  tower  another  view  can  be  obtained  of  the  cit)  ami  its 
surroundings. 

There  is  not  much  to  see  in  the  University  itself,  so  we  pass  out  again  antl  retrace 
our  steps    to  the   Little   Markitt    Square  in   front  of    the   Basilica,    where  stands  the    long 


w 


ill 


III 


I 


w 


V 


^t 


52 


QUEBEC. 


row  of  caUclies  whose  drivers,  French  and  Irish,  have  a  keen  eye  for  any  i)asser-by 
who  seems  to  wear  the  tourist'  dr  of  observation.  Just  opposite  the  Cathedral  stood 
until  recently  the  large  pile  of  the  Jesuit  Barracks — originally  tiie  Jesuit  College- - 
with  its  yellow,  stuccoed  front  and  grated  windows,  and  a  high  portal  with  the  time- 
worn  letters  "I.  11.  S."  still 
visible  as  the  mark  of  its 
early   owners. 

Turning  back  we  pass  down 
St.  Famille  Street,  which  ex- 
tends along  the  eastern  side 
of  the  Seminary  CJardens 
and  leails  to  tiie  opening  in 
the  wall  wiiere  but  recently 
stood  Hope  Ciate.  I'Vom 
this  point  there  used  to  be  a 
continuous  promenade  round 
the  ramparts,  which,  when 
the  present  work  of  pulling 
down  and  niiuilding  is  com- 
[ileted,  will  again  txist  in  a 
greatly  im|)roved  state,  in 
fuHilmcnt  of  one;  of  Lord 
Dufferin's  plans  for  the 
adornment  of  ()uebec.  15ut 
now  we  will  retrace  our 
steps  to  the  Cathedral 
Scjuare,  and  crossing  it  ;it 
its  U[)pcr  eiul.  pass  in  front 
of  the  luigiish  Cathedral, 
a  sombn^-looking  buikling, 
with  a  substantial  turr<'t, 
standing  within  an  okl-fash- 
ioned,  shady  enclosure.  .'\  little  farther  on  we  come  to  a  gray,  ecclesiastical-looking 
cluster  of  buildings  around  a  small  green  "close,"  consisting  of  the  old  .Scottish  ihurch, 
dating  from  iSio,  with  its  substantial  manse  antl  school-house.  'I'lu'  group  seems  to 
belong  to  a  Scottish  landscape  as  naturally  as  the  greater  part  of  Quebec  does  to  a 
French  one. 

Just  opposite  the  church  stands  what  was  the  old  gaol,  associated    with    some  grim 
memories  of    the  days   of    political    imprisonments,   now,  through    the   generosity   of    Dr. 


LOOKI.NG    ACROSS     rHK    i;SJ'LAN.\ni-;     ro    BEAUPOKT. 


QUniU'.C:    PICTURHSQUH  A  AD  nHSCRIPTU'E. 


53 


Morrill,  OIK'  of  Quebec's  old  citizens,  converted  into  a  Presbyterian  College,  a  part  of  it 
being  devoted  to  the  rooms  of  tlu^    Literary   and    Historical   Society. 

Passing  along  St.  Ursule  Street,  we  come  back  to  St.  Louis  Street,  and,  turning 
the  corner  of  the  long  range  of  massive  gray  stone  convent  buildings,  we  reach  the  entrance 
to  the  chapel,  at  the  end  of  Parloir  .Street.  The  I'rsuline  I  On  vent  and  gardens  occupy 
no  small  portion  of  the  space  within  tlu;  walls,  and  they  deserve  it  by  a  well-earned 
right.  The  chapel  of  the  convent  ii.is  various  interesting  reminiscences  and  associations, 
religious  and  artistic,  ..:ul  martial  as  well.  One  interestins,'  and  suggestive  object  is  a 
votive  lamp,  lighted  a  hundred  and  tift)-  years  ago  by  tvo  I'Vinch  officers,  on  their 
sisters  taking  tiie  veil,  and  kept  burning  ever  since,  except  lor  a  snort  time  during  the 
siege  of  1759.  There  are  paintings  sent  from  P'rance  at  tiie  Re\olution — one  s.iid  to  be 
by  Vandyke  and  one  l)y  Champagna — and  wood  car\  ings,  the  work  of  the  first  Canadian 
School  of  Art,  at  St.  Ann's,  early  in  the  eighteenth  century.  Montcalm,  taken  thither 
to  die,  was  burieil  within  tile  convent  precincts  in  a  grave  dug  for  him  by  a  bursting 
shell ;    antl  his  skull,  carefully  preserved,  is  still  shown  to  visitors  t(j  the  chapel.    • 

From  the  Ursuline  Convent  a  short  walk  brings  us  back  to  the  Esplanade,  between 
the  St.  Louis  and  Kent  (iati-s.  Turning  into  its  (piiet  area,  faced  b\  a  row  of  rather 
sombre-looking  private  resiliences,  we  ascenil  IJK'  si<)[)e  to  the  walk  that  runs  along  the 
line  of  wall.  Looking  cil\-ward,  from  one  point  in  our  promenatle  we  take  in  the 
idyllic  view  of  the  lran<|uii  Lsplanade,  with  its  poplars  and  disused  guns,  the  ancient 
little  Jesuit  ciuirch  and  the  old  National  school  immediately  in  frc^n  :  while  across 
the  ramparts  and  the  abrupt  dt.'scent  beyontl.  we  catch  the  blue  strip  of  river  between 
us  and  Ht'au|)ort,  with  white  sails  skimming  across,  and  thi  wliit(.'  houses  scattered 
along  the  gre-en  slopes  opposite,  that  enci  again  in  a  grand  mountain  wall.  Proceetling 
on  from  tlu-  P^splanade,  we  walk  across  the  top  of  Ktiit  liate  and  tlu'ii  follow  the  line  of 
the  ram|)arls  to  the  massive  arched  portal  of  St.  John's  Ciate,  whence  we  look  down 
on  the  luis\  Monlialin  M.irkci  imincdiatel)-  below,  with  its  primitive  P'reiuh  market- 
carts  and  good-humoured  I'Vench  market-women,  who  will  sell  \ou  a  whole  handful 
of  boiKjuets  for  a  few  cents.  We  have  to  leave  the  ramparts  soon  after  passing 
St.  John's  (iatc',  the  pronienaile,  which  will  be  continuous,  not  being  yet  finished. 

Taking  our  wa\'  back,  we  return  to  the  stjuare,  and  engage  one  of  the  eager  ((jlhhc- 
drivers  to  takt;  us  out  to  Montmorenc)'  Palls,  a  nini?-mile  dri\e.  .Xscemling  to  the 
high-perched  seat  in  the  little  two-wheeled  vehicle,  we  are  soon  rattling  over  the  not 
very  smooth  thoroughfare  of  the  .St.  John  suburbs,  among  modern  and  uninteresting 
streets — for  tlu:s(;  suburbs  ha\f  been  again  aiul  again  laid  waste  by  fire.  We  pass 
near  the  ruins  of  the  old  Intemlani's  Palace,  and  an;  soon  on  Dorchester  Bridge,  the 
gray  rock  of  the  city  rising  behind  us,  the  valle)'  of  the  .St.  Charles  winding  away  to 
the  north-west.  "  Thert%"  our  driver  will  say,  looking  up  at  the  river  where  the  tide 
is    rising  among    some    ship-)arils,    "  is  where  Jacipies    C.irtier    laid   up  his  ships."      Near 


1 


I 


54 


QUEBEC. 


I    ! 
1:! 


m 


m 


that  point,  also,  Montcalm's  hritl^e  of  boats  crossed  the  rivt-r,  in  1 750,  and  in  a  large 
entrenchment,  where  once  stood  the  Jesuit  Mission  House,  the  remnants  of  his  scattered 
army  rallied  after  the  battle  of  the  "  I'iains."  F.ven  the  r(?/(V//c-drivers  are  anticiuarian 
ami  liistorical  in  Quebec,  and  take  priiie  in  acting  the  part  of  cicerone  to  tlie  venerable 
associations  of  the  place. 

The  memory  of  Montcalm  is  associated  witli  many  point  >  along  the  pleasant  road 
tliat  leads  througii  long-stretching  I'Vench  villages,  between  the  gre(;n  meadows  tliat 
slope  u])  to  tile  liills  on  tiie  (me  side  and  down  to  tile  St.  Lawrence  on  the  other. 
Tlu'  burning  sun  of  our  Canadian  summer,  softeiU'd  here  by  tiie  fre(]uent  mists  ,uid  fogs 
from  the  sea,  does  not  parcii  tiie  verdure,  as  it  too  often  tloes  in  regions  farther  in- 
land. The  velvety  green  of  tlie  low-lying  meadows,  dotted  and  fringetl  with  graceful 
elms  and  bcecli  and  mai)le,  would  do  no  discn'dit  to  the  lunerald  Isle ;  and  if  the 
villas  and  fields  were  surrounileil  by  heilges  insteail  of  fences,  the  landscajje  niigiit  easily 
be  taken  for  an  English  onc'.  About  tiiree  miles  below  Quebec  we  pass  the  Heauport 
Asylum,'  a  tine,  sul)stantial  buiitiiiig,  witli  a  good  ileal  of  ornamental  statuary  and  other 
decoration  in  front,  in  wiiich  a  large  numl)er  of  lunatics  are  care<l  for  under  ("lovern- 
ment  supervision.  Here  ami  tiiere  other  residences  and  grounds  attract  the;  e)-e.  The 
most  notable  in  l)\c-gone  times  was  the  manor-house  of  old  Heauport,  recently  destroNcd 
by  tire,  and  occupied  in  1759  by  Montcalm  as  his  head-quarters.  .\n  old  le.iden  plate 
was  lately  found  in  the  ruins,  bearing  an  inscription,  interesting  to  anti(|uarians.  The 
date  of  its  first  erection,  as  gi\-en  in  the  plate,  proves  the  ruineil  mansion  to  have 
been  okler  than  any  existing  in  Canada  to-day.  since  it  preceded  1)\  three  )ears 
that  of  the  Jesuits'  residence  at  Siller\-.  Robert  C.iffart.  physician  and  founder  of  the 
Seigniory,  figures  in  a  curious  oKI  story  told  b\  the  .\l)l)e  I'erland.  of  the  enforced 
penitence  and  submission  of  .1  rebellious  vassal — Jean  Cuion.  or  Dion -a  h'tteri'd  stone- 
mason, who  thought  lit  to  refuse  tlu;  homagt;  he  oweil  to  Ciilfart,  his  feudal  lord.  The 
vicinity  of  the  ruined  chateau  bearing  such  inti:resting  associations,  is  called  l.a 
Canardi'crc.  preserving,  in  this  cognomen,  a  reminiscence  of  the  time  when  this  (iiffart,  a 
keen  sportsman,  was  wont  to  bag  wild  duck  in  large  numbers  .ilong  the  marsh)-  Ijank  of 
the  stream,   the   "Riiisscaii  lic  /'Ours,"  on   which  he  erected   iiis  ruile  stockailed    mansion. 

One  or  two  other  c/iahniix  are  still  inhabited  by  the  representatives  of  the  I'Vench 
families  of  the  Old  Regime.  By  degrees  the  scattereii  mansions,  in  their  settings  of 
green  turf  ami  foliag(',  merge  into  the  long  lines  of  I{<'auport  \  illage,  its  neat,  cpiaint 
houses,  generally  of  substantial  stone,  steej)- roofed  and  dormer-windowed,  and  often 
completed  with  the  little  balcou)-  ;  some  of  them  okl  and  weather-worn,  others  spick  and 
si)an  in  gay  new  paint,  ami  most  of  tluni  bright  with  .1  profusion  of  llow(?rs  in  a  little 
plot  before  the  door  or  in  the  windows.  Behind  each  little  house  is  its  riband-like 
strip  of  ground,  seemingly  narrowed  down  to  the  smallest  space  within  which  a 
horse  could  turn  ;  and  here  and  there  may  be  seen  a  man  at  work  with  the  primitivj;  cart 


15 


QUEBEC:    riCTURRSQUE   AND  DESCRlPriVE. 


55 


and  single  horse — all  his  little  farm  will  suijport  -which 
carries  to  market  the  vegetables  that  are  liis  cliief  de- 
pendence. Altogether,  the  light-hearted,  open-air  life  of 
the  simple  folk  carries  a  pleasant  suggestion  of  that 
so  \ividly  sketched  in  "Evangeline"  and  of  "la  belle 
Nonnandic"  without  its  Gothic  churches 


WAVSIDl;     CKOSS,    AMI    UKAUl'OKT 
CMUUeH. 

and  its  peculiar  costume,  '{'he 
massi\c  stone  liuildinL:  llial  lifts 
its  glcaiiung,  protecting  spu'es 
high  al)oM'  tile  humhle  tlwi'iiings 
at  its  feet,  is  of  no  okl  Xorman 
t\pe.  liui  a  jilain.  straightfor- 
ward substantial  structure,  of  liie  same  model  on  which  the  l-'reiich-Canadian  churches 
are    generalK     liuiit.  It    looks    large    enough    to    contain    the    wiiole    population    of    a 

xillagi^  seven   or    eight   miles   long,   and   doulitless  on   fete-ilays  it  does    so. 

Much   UKue  (|uaint   ,uid   picturesijue    are  the    liiu    wayside  chapels  and    crosses  which 
we  occasionally  pass — the   former  sometimes  relics    of    the    days    when    the    long    village 


4 


56 


QUEBEC. 


■I 


I 


was  a  liainlct,  and  i^Iail  to  \va\v  a  cha|n'l  of  ilu-  smallest,  of  its  wxs  own  ;  wliilii  tlu' 
vvaysidc  cross,  close  by,  willi  its  sacred  syml)ol  of  sulferini^^  castini;  its  |)atlu'tic  sliadow 
on  tile  life  and  brightness  around,  would  he  (|uite  in  ])lace  in  a  landscape  of  I'rance  or 
of  Soulliorn  Cicrmany. 

At  last  the  \illa}j;e  of  Ik-anport  is  left  hehiml,  ami  we  skirt  an  ojjcn  stretch  of 
field  and  wooiliand  on  either  side.  Towanis  the  St.  Lawrence,  which  lies  broatl  and 
bill  '  between  us  ami  tlu;  richly-woodeil  Isle  of  Orleans,  is  seen  a  white  mansion  on  a 
commanding  pouit,  just  above  the  Montmorency  balls,  wliich  was  once  occupied  by 
the  Duke  of  Kent.  Beyond  tlu;  river  aiul  the  Isle  of  Orleans  the  low  blue  hills 
appear,  while  before  us  to  the  left  rise  tlu;  noble  outlines  of  tlu:  l.aurt  .itians,  llecked 
with  passing  gleams  of  soft  light  and  violet  shadow.  If  we  choost-  to  alight, 
and  walk  a  mile  or  so  across  tlu;  fields  to  our  left,  we  conu'  to  the  "  Natural 
Steps,"  a  succession  of  rock)'  ledges,  exactly  like  steps  cut  in  the  rock,  l)el\vi;en 
which  tlu;  narrow  ri\cr  swi:eps  sik'ntly  on,  fringed  b\-  a  fragrant  wood  of  low  spruc(; 
and  hemlock,  soon  to  brawl  and  ft)am  over  tlu-  brown-gray  rocks  in  tin)'  cascailes, 
before  its  fmal  plunge.  Returning  again  to  tlu;  roail,  and  driving  on,  we  conu'  to 
the  wooden  britlge  across  tlu;  river,  when;  it  ilashes  itself  o\fr  its  rocky  bed,  which 
thi;  advancing  summer  lea\t's  half  uncoNcred  and  dry.  Crossing  tlu;  bridge,  we  dri\'e 
some  few  hmulrec'  yards  to  the  little  countrs'  inn,  whert-  carriages  put  up  to  await  the 
return  of  their  jiassengers,  who  uuist  go  the;  rest  of  the  way  on  foot.  A  little 
farther  on  is  the  gate  to  the  |iathwa\'  leading  to  the  ball,  winding  along  the  top  of  a 
high  bank,  fringed  with  foliage  and  wild  llowers.  b'ollowing  this  path  we  graduall)- 
catch  a  glimijse  of  slender,  snow\'  streams  of  foam  desceniling  over  tlu;  dark,  rocky 
precipice.  Thesi;  are  the  outhing  stragglers  of  the  great  ball,  and  are  as  beautiful  in 
themselves  as  sonu;  Swiss  cascades,  one  of  them  looking  like  braidetl  ihreatls  of  nuilt<'n 
silver  as  it  falls  over  the  jutting  rocks,  and  another  reminding  tlu;  tra\eller  of  the 
Geissbach.  li\  the  tinu-  the  lop  of  the  strong  wooden  stairs  leailing  down  the  rapidK- 
descending  bank  is  reached  the  up])er  ])art  of  the  main  ball  is  in  full  view;  though  not 
till  We  descend  two-thirds  of  reallv  di/z\ing  stair,  can  it  be  realiz'il  in  its  entire  majesty, 
as  it  makes  a  slu-er  [ilungi-,  a  mass  of  snow\-  foam  in  mad,  headlong  rush,  down  the 
precipice  of  250  feet.  The  illustration,  excellent  as  it  is.  can  liardK  convey  a  true 
icK'a  of  its  maj(;stic  l'.(;ighl  as  se<'n  from  one  of  tlu;  resting-places,  about  oiu'-third  of 
the  distance  from  below,  where  we  cm  best  appreciati;  the  full  sweep  aiul  \olunu — 
partly  cut  oil,  in  the  illustration,  by  the  inter\cning  rocks.  Higher  than  Niagara,  yet 
on  account  of  its  comparatively  small  volume,  it  has  nothing  like  the  stu|)endous 
grandeur  ol  that  niightv  cataract,  bul  much  nu)re  of  picturescpie  beaut)  in  its  si'tting — 
while  its    greater    height    is    emphasizeil  b)    its  narrower  limits. 

At  the  head  of  the  Fall,  on  eiilur  bank,  staiul  massive  stone  piers,  nuiuorials  of  a 
tragedy   which  occurrcil   there    man)    \fars    ago.       A   suspension    bridge,   built    across    the 


ornnrx.   rn  rrRnsouh:  and  nnscKii'iivE. 


57 


LooKiNi;    io\\.\ki)>  1,11.  i.m.e, 

From    Montmorency, 
top     nf     tllc    I', ill,     ll.ul     Ixcn    too 

slisjluly     cnnstnirtcd,     ami     had 
not    stood    \('r\     loii;;    Ix-foi-c    it 

l)rokc  asunder  while  a  liahittvtt  and  hi-^  wife  were  crossinL;  it  in  their  niarket-rart. 
!"he\'  \V(>re  swept  at  once  over  the  cataract,  iK'ver  to  he  seen  aitrain.  Ihe  hridi^c 
was  not  rehuill,  the  two  piers  still  standini;.  mute  monuments  of  the  traijc'dy.  The 
house  already  seen  ahovc  the  hall  associated  with  the  father  of  our  fjracious  (juccn 
— is  a  consiitcuous  object  liom  the  top  of  the  stair,  and  the  paths  laid  out  in  the 
jrrnunds  must  command  nol)le  views.  A  part  of  one  of  the  small  cascades  is  usi  d  for 
turnini;  the  machinery  of  a  saw-mill  near  by,  hut  the  mill  itself  is  l<e])t  well  out  of 
sifjht.  Rafts  and  lumlxT  piles,  however,  are  prominent  fe.ilures  alon,i;  the  shore  of  the 
river  as  it  enters  the  St.    Lawrence. 

At  the  foot  of  the   I'all   the  fanu)us  "  Cont-,"  an   irre>j;ul,ir  mound  of  ice  and  snow,   is 


!    i 


QUEBEC. 


'1    I 
J  -I 


gradually  formed,  in  winter,  by  the  frc-ozinj,'  spray.  It  prows  till  it  attains  a  li<ijjht  so 
considerable  that  it  serves  as  the  favourite  tolioj^^annini^  y;roiin(l  of  the  ijay  people  of 
Oiiebec.  who  make  regular  sleij^hinjf  expeditions  to  tile  locality  to  »'njo)'  this  exhil- 
aratin>;  though  somewhat  ilanj;erous  Canadian  sport.  When  the  "Cone"  and  its 
vicinity  are  alive  with  tobojrganners — the  ladies  dressed  in  bright,  becoming  costumes, 
some  of  them  making  tiie  dizzy  descent  in  a  light  cloud  of  snow,  others  -Jdwl)-  ilrawing 


iliji' 


MUM  MURl-.NCV     klVl;K    Al<0\t    I  AI.Lb. 


I' 


their  toboggans  up  the  "Cone" — the  scene,  in  its  winter  attire  of  pure,  sparkling  snow, 
crusting  the  dark  evergreens  and  contrasting  with  the  rushing  Fall,  is  at  once  a  grand 
and  pleasing  one. 

We  turn  away  reluctantly  from  the  beautiful  picture,  and  in  a  few  minutes  are  rattling 


QVl-.nEC:  NCTURHSQUE  AND  nRscRiri'iin. 


69 


back  alonj,'  llic  road  to  Qiicljcc.  Tlie  city,  as  wc  ilraw  near  it,  in  tiit;  cvcninjf 
iij^iit,  apjuars  to  blaze  out  in  a  jjlitterinjf  sheen,  every  tin  roof  j^ivin^'  back  the  afternoon 
siinsliiiic  till  the  wiioh!  rock  seems  irradiated  witli  a  j^oldi^n  j^lory,  in  stroller  contrast  to 
tile  d('ci<  tones  of  tile  hills  beyond.  Graduall)-  tiie  ^lory  resolves  itself  into  roofs  and 
house's,  ;ind  soon  we  cross  Dorchester  Mridjje  aj^ain,  when,  turning  by  a  side  street  to 
the  rij^ht,  we  j)ass  through  the  deserted  market-place  outside  St.  John's  date,  anil  are 
once  more  within    tlu;    cit\-,  driving    along    St.  John    Street,  the  chief  thoroughfare. 

One  of  the  points  of  interest  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  Quebec,  is  the  site  of  the 
old  hunting-lodge  of  the  Intendant  Higot,  beyond  the  village  of  Charlesbourg.  Leaving 
the  main  road,  we  penetrate  through  a  tangled  thicket  and  reach  an  open  glade  beside 
a  stream  wlu.-re  some  weather-worn  walls,  the  remains  of  what  is  poi)ularl\-  called  tin; 
Chateau  Higot,  stand  amid  lilac  and  syringa  Inislu^s  which  still  show  traces  of  an  old 
;f;ir('en.  i'here  the  wicked  Intendant  was  wont  to  hold  his  carousals  with  his  boon  com- 
panions of  liu'  hunt,  after  the  fashion  described  in  the  "  Cliicn  if  Or."  It  has  its  legend 
of  a  iinricd  hoanl  of  siKcr  and  of  a  beautiful  Huron  girl  who  loved  Higot  and  dietl  a 
violent  death.  Hut  ajjart  from  legend,  it  has  a  wild  grace  of  its  own,  with  its  hoary 
vestiges  of  a  long-past  habitation,  anil  the  pine-crowned  moimtain  rising  as  a  noble  back- 
ground  behind   the  surrounding  trees. 

Sillery  is  among  the  sacred  places  of  Quebec,  and  a  pilgrimage  thither  is  one  of 
the  |)leasantest  little  excursions  one  can  make  from  the  old  cit)-.  biom  the  deck  nf  the 
"James,"  which  plies  on  the  river  between  Quebec  and  Sillery,  we  can  look  up,  lu'st  to  tiie 
old,  steep  houses  massed  under  the  scarped  rock  that  shoots  aloft  on  to  Diifferin  Terrace, 
with  Its  watch-lowers,  and  thence  to  the  crowning  height  of  the  Citailel.  We  steam  slowly 
past  the  brown  shelving  precipice  of  Cape  Diamond,  with  its  fringe  of  I'Vench  hou.ses 
and  shipping ;  past  lumber  vessels  lifting  huge  logs  from  rafts  in  the  stream,  beyond 
the  |)(>int  where,  high  up  on  the  red-brown  rock  we  can  easily  read  the  inscription, 
"Here  Montgomery  fell — 1775."  Then  we  pass  the  green  plains,  with  their  broken 
ground  and  old  earthworks  and  Martello  towers  and  observatory,  anil  the  grim  gaol — a 
conspicuous  mass  ;  tinn  a  stretch  of  ground,  covered  with  low  xegetation,  gives  place  to 
hig!i-u()()ded  banks  and  shades,  opening,  through  masses  of  i)ine  and  oak  ind  maple 
foliagi',  glimpsi!s  of  pleasant  country-seats.  Opposite,  from  the  curving  point  of  l,''\is, 
the  eye  follows  height  after  height,  rich,  rounded,  wooded  hills,  at  the  foot  of  which, 
just  op|)Osite,  lies  the  busy  village  of  New  Liverpool,  with  its  massive  and  tuieh- 
frescoed   church. 

Hut  we  must  leave  .Sillery.  with  its  sacred  and  stirring  memories,  and  drive  up  the 
foliage-clad  height  which  makes  so  effective  a  background,  h.  gradual  ascent  above 
the  residence,  soon  brings  us  to  tlu'  level  ground  above,  to  the  |)retty,  foliage-embowered 
St.  Louis  road,  where  we  pass  tin-  pine-shaded  glades  of  Mount  Hermon  Cemetery. 
S[)encer   Wood   is  one  of    the  charming  country   resiliences  of   which  we  catch  a    urissing 


\\ 


6o 


QUEBEC. 


1 1  1'! 


I 


QUHIUiC:    PICTURRSQUE  AND   /^r.SCK/r'nm. 


6i 


glimpse,  and  its  bosky  recesses  .iml  l)rijfiu  i^iinlcns  arc  \\w.  scenes  of  many  a  pitasanl 
ffite  for  tiu;  liniK  iiioiuii-  of  (jiiclicc,  imdcr  tlie  iiospitahle  aiis[)ices  of  llie  l.iciitcnanl- 
Governor  of  liie  day.  As  we  draw  nearer  llu;  city,  cross-roads  jjive  us  j,dimi)ses  of 
tiu!  jfrand  mountain  landscape  to  the  nortli,  and  of  tiie  Stc.  I'Oye  road,  wiiieii  leads  by  an 
extremely  pretty  drive  to  the  .Sic  I'oye  monument,  on  an  open  plateau  on  the  i)ro\v  of 
the  cliff  overhan),dn<,f  the  valley  of  tiie  St.  Charles.  The  monument,  a  slender  Doric 
l)illar  crowned  by  a  bronze  statue  of  Hellona,  presented  by  I'rince  Napoleon  on  the 
occasion  of  his  visit  to  Canada,  commemorates  the  battle  of  Ste.  b'oye,  between  Levis 
and  Murray — the  final  scene  in  the  slruyyle  between  b'rench  ;ind  l{n,i;lish  for  the  pos- 
session of  Can.uia  and  also  marks  the  jjrave  of  those  wiio  fell.  It  bears  the  inscription, 
"  .\iix  biavis  lie    I  7()0,  nii;r  pur  Ic  Socii'ti'  St.  Jean  Ihiftlistc  i/c  (J/iScf,  iiS6o." 

About  two  and  a  half  miles  alont(  the  .Sir.  b'oye  road  lii's  llie  liclmont  Cemetery, 
the  buryinjf-place  of  the  ^nrat  Roman  Catholic  church<'s  the  Basilica  and  St.  Jean 
Baptiste.  There,  under  the  solemn  pines,  sleeps,  anions  main  of  his  com|)atriots,  the 
noble  and  patriotic  (iarneau,  the  historian  of  brench-Canada.  With  a  visit  to  his  tomb 
we  may  ajipropriately  close  our  \vanderinj;s  about  this  historic  city. 


It 


!  I  1 
'■  1  I 


. 


FRENCH-CANADIAN   LIFE  AND  CHARACTER. 


"TF   you    have    never  visited  tiie  C6te  de  Beauprc,  you  know  neither  Canada  nor  the 


I 


Canadians,"  says  the  AIiIjc   I'erland. 

The  i)eautifui  strip  of  country  tiiat  borders  the  St.  Lawrence  for  a  score  or  so  of 
miles  below  the  I-'alls  of  Montmorency  does,  indeed,  afford  tlie  best  possijjle  illustration 
of  the  scenery,  the  life,  and  the  manners  of  the  l'ro\in((!  of  Quebec,  the  peoiile  of 
which,  not  content  with  namini;  the  Dominion,  liaim  Canada  aiul  Canailian  as  desi^Mia- 
tions  peculiarly  their  own.  Ail  tliat  is  lovely  in  landscape  is  to  be  fouml  there.  Tiie 
broad  sweep  of  "  the  j^reat  river  of  Canada,"  between  the  ramjiarts  of  Cape  Diamond 
and  the  forest-crowned  crest  of  Cap  Tourmente,  is  frinj^ed  with  ricii  meadows  risinij  in 
terraces  of  \erdure,  slope  aft(!r  slope,  to  thi;  foot  of  the  sombre  hills  that  wail  in  tiie 
vast  amphitheatre.  In  tin;  forej^round  the  north  channel,  hemmed  in  by  the  bold  cliffs 
of  the  Island  of  Orleans,  sparkles  in  the  sun.  Far  awa\-  across  the  Tr.iverse,  as  you 
lock  between  the  tonsured  iiead  of  i'etit  Cap  and  the  point  of  (Jrleans,  a  cluster  of 
low  islands  breaks  the  broatl  expanse    of    the    main    stre.im.   tht     brilliant   blue    of    which 

62 


MM 


FRliNCH-CANADIAN  LlFli  AND  CHARACTER. 


63 


GATHERINli    M.\UM1     HAY. 


mclis  on  tlic  distant  liori/on   into  tlic  hardly  pnrrr  azure  of  the  sky.      Quaint    kxttiaux, 

with  sweliins;   canvas,   make    their  slow    wa\-,   or  l\in,i,f 

hiijh 

Klide 

nonn('< 

nals   t( 

tluindt 


l.OADlNi;    A     MAiri-AU    Ar     Low     riDE. 


% 


Jy 


64 


OUF.BRC. 


LAP      roL  k.MI.N  IK     AM)     I'l.Tll'     CAI'. 


coviux'il  witli  rich  ^rass,  arc  stiuldcd  wiili  liaNinakcrs  iratlicriiii^  the  al)iinclant  yield, 
or  are  dotted  witii  cattle.  Inland,  stiff  poplars  and  bosky  elms  trace  out  the  long 
brown  rliiands  of  tlu'  roads.  1 1  ere  anil  then'  the  white  cotiii^^es  group  c1os<t  together, 
and  the  s|)ire  of  the  ov  Tshadow  ing  church  to|)])ing  the  trees,  marks  the  centre  of 
a  p;irish.  Red  roofs  ;uitl  glistening  domes  llash  out  in  brilliant  |ioints  of  loli.ur 
against  the  lleecy  clouds  that  lleck  th<,'  summer  skv.  Rich  pastures,  \va\i.ig  g:ain, 
orch.irds  and  maple  groves,  lead  \\\v.  eye  back  among  their  softly-blending  tints  to  the 
dark  masses  of  |)urple  ami  green  with  which  thi-  forests  clothe  the  mountains.  Huge 
rifts,  in  which  sunlight  and  shadow  work  rare  ( ffects,  reveal  where  imprisoned 
streams  burst  their  wa\  thrcjugh  the  l.aurentian  rocks  in  successions  of  magnilicent 
cascades.  A  glimpse  of  white  far  up  the  mountain  side  shows  one  of  these,  while  its 
placid  course  through  the  lowland  is  marked  in  silver  sheen.  As  the  sun  gets  low.  one 
perchance;  c;Uches  the  llash  rellecteil  from  some  ol  llu;  lo\ely  lakes  th.it  lie  among 
th.!  hills. 

I'll'-  CAte  de  Renuprc  Is  the  oldest  as  'ell  as  the  fairest  pr>rt  of  the  Province.  It 
was  settled  soon  after  Cl'.amplain  landed,  the  lii  1  marsh  hay  being  utilized  at  once  for 
the  wants  of  (Quebec.  In  16;,;  a  fort  was  built  at  Petit  Ca|),  the  summit  (jf  the  pro- 
monotory  that  iuts  out  into  tlu'  ri\cr  under  the  o\  1  rsh.idowing  height  of  Cap  Tourmente. 
The  fort  w;is  destroyed  by  Sir  ')a\id  l^irk — Admiral,  tiie  ihronicit  rs  call  him  in  tl'.ese 
days  hi'  would  i)robabl\  Ix'  hanged  as  a  buccaneer  who  harried  the  cattle  ,ind  then 
sailed  01;  to  scuunvMi  Quebec  to  surrender  for  the  first  time.  In  1670  l.a\a!  establislu'd 
here  a  school  for  training  boys  as  well  in  farming  and  mechanics,  as  in  doctrine  and 
discipline.      Among    other    imhi  .tries,    wofKl-carvuig    for   church    decoration    was    taught. 


FRENCH-CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CffARACTFR. 


65 


so  that  the  C6te  de  Bcauprc  can  lay  claim  to  the  first  Art  School  and  the  first 
model-farm  in  America.  The  Quebec  Seminary  still  keeps  u[)  this  state  of  things — 
at  least  as  far  as  agriculture  is  concerned.  The  place  is  known  as  "  The  Priests'  I'arm," 
and  supplies  the  Seminary,  being  thoroughly  worked  and  having  much  attention  given 
to  it.     It  is  also  a  summer  resort  for  the  professors  and  pupils  of  the  Seminary. 

After  the  restoration  of  Canada  to  I'Vance  by  the  Treaty  of  St.  Germain-en-Laye, 
in  1632,  this  part  of  the  little  colony  grew  ai' ice,  .so  that  by  the  tirre  the  seigniory 
passed  into  Laval's  hands,  from  whom  it  came  to  its  present  owners — the  Seminary — 
its  population,  notwithstanding  its  exposure  to 
attack  by  the  Irotjuois,  was  greater  than  that 
of  Quebec  itself.  From  its  situation  it  has 
been  less  vulnerable  than  many  other  districts 
to  outside  intluences.  The  face  of  the  country 
and  the  character  of  the  people  have  yielded 
less  to  modern  ideas,  which,  working  (Quietly 
and  imperceptibly,  have  left  intact  many  of 
the  antiquities,  traditions  and  customs  1!  it 
have  disappeared  elsewhere  within  the  last 
generation.  I  h  ic  you  may  fmd  families  liv- 
ing on  the  lands  their  forefathers  took  in 
feudal  tenure  frnni  the  first  se/^/n/irs  of  1  a 
iN^ouveile  France.  What  Ferland  says  is  still 
to  a  great  extent  true :  "In  the  habilant  of 
the  C6te  de  Heaupre  you  have  tiie  Norman 
pea.sant  of  the  reign  of  Louis  XIV^,  with  his 
legends,  his  songs,  iiis  superstitions  and  his  customs."  He  is  not  so  benighted  as 
many  people  tiiink  he  is,  Init  iicrc  and  tliere  you  will  come  across  a  genuine  survi\al 
of  tile  Oil!  Reginie,  and  may,  perhaps,  meet  some  gray-capoted,  fi.r-capped,  liro\vii-\  isaged, 
shrivclled-up  old  man,  wiiose  language  and  ideas  make  you  think  a  \eritable  lireton 
or  Norman  of  the  ciMitury  i)efore  last  has  been  weather-beaten  and  smoke-dried  into 
perpetual  |ireservatio-; 

.All  tiic  world  over  your  rustic  is  conservative.  Th<'  old  gods  lived  long  among 
the  Italian  \illagi!rs,  though  Rome  was  the  cenf"  of  the  new^  faith.  .Among  the 
habitans  of  the  Province  of  Quebec  there  )'et  exist  a  mode  of  life  anrl  cast  of  tiiought 
strangely  in  contrast  with  their  surroundings.  In  the  cities  a  rapid  i)rocess  >{  assimi- 
lation is  going  on.  Quaint  and  foreign  thougli  Montreal,  iml  especially  Quebec,  seem 
to  the  stranger  at  first  sight,  their  inteiest  is  mainly  historical  and  political.  To  under- 
stand the  national  life  of   Lower  Canada,   you   must   go  among   ihe  liahitans. 

The  word  is  peculi.vily   I'Vench-Canadian.      The  /'tty.uvi.  or  |iias;iiu.   never  existed  in 


A.N     oil)     IIAHIIANT. 


66 


QUEBEC. 


■  \    ^ 


\\ 


Canada,  for  the  feudalism  estalilishcd  liy  Louis  XIV.  did  rot  imply  any  personal  depend- 
ence upon  tile  scii^iicur,  nor,  in  fact,  any  real  social  intoriority.  I'^acii  cnis/'/airc  was,  in 
all  hut  name,  virtually  as  inilependent  a  proprietor  as  is  his  descendant  to-day.  He 
was  and  he  is  emphatically  the  dweller  in  the  land.  He  "  went  up  and  saw  the  land 
that  it  was  good,"  possessed  it,  and  dwells  therein.  The  term  is  often  useil  as  ('(piiva- 
lent  to  (ultivatciir,  or  farmtT,  and  as  distinguishing  the  rural  from  the  urban  population ; 
but,  rightly  umlerstood  ;uul  used  as  he  uses  it,  nothing  more  forcibly  expresses 
both  the  origin  antl  nature  of  the  attachment  of  the  breiich  -  Caiunlian  to  his 
country  antl  the  tenacity  with  which  he  clings  to  his  nationality,  his  religion  ami  his 
language. 

The  persistency  of  French  nationality  in  Canada  is  remarkable.  The  formal  guar- 
antees of  the  Treaty  of  Paris  and  the  Quebec  Act,  that  language,  religion  and  laws 
should  be  preserved,  undoubtedly  saved  it  from  e.xtinction  by  concpiest.  But  to  the 
difference  in  character  between  the  Frencli  and  English,  which  is  so  radical  and  has  been 
so  sedulously  fostered  by  every  possible  means,  not  the  least  ellective  bi;ing  an  able  and 
vigorous  literature  wiiich  preserves  and  cultivates  the  b'rench  l.uiguage  ;  to  the  political 
freedom  which  allowed  the  realization  of  the  early  j)i'rc<'pti(in  that  as  indisiduals  they 
would  be  without  inlluence,  as  a  bodv  all-[)()werful  ;  to  tlu'  inlurciu  merits  of  their  ci\il 
law,  the  direct  ilescendant  of  a  jurisprudence  which  was  a  relined  science  centuries  be- 
fore Christ  ;  and  to  the  ideal  of  becoming  the  representatives  of  Roman  Catholicism 
in  America,  must  be  mainl)-  ascribed  tli(;  vitality  that  the  I'rench-Canadians  have  shown 
as  a  distinct  people.  1  heir  numerical  and  physical  condition  will  be  di'alt  with  later  on, 
but  it  inay  be  said  here  that  a  great  deal  is  also  due  to  their  origin.  Thi!  hardy  sailors 
of  \ormand\-  and  Hretagne ;  the  sturdy  farmers  of  .-Xnjou,  Poitou,  Le  I'erche,  Aunis, 
Saintonge  and  L'lle-dc-l'rance  ;  the  soldiers  of  the  Carign.m  regiment  who  li.ul  fought  on 
every  battle-lield  in  Eurojie,  brought  wilh  them  to  Canaila  the  spirit  (jf  .uKi.-nture,  the 
endurance-,  the  l)r;i\er\'  —  in  short,  .ill  th<,-  ([ualities  that  go  to  make  successful  coh  nists, 
and  th.it  the)  inlnriti-d  from  the  same  source  as  does  the  Englishman.  In  the  I'nited 
States,  the  second  or  third  "feneration  finds  other  immigrants  completely  fuseil  into  the 
common  citizenship,  but  the  little  French-Canadian  colonies  in  the  manufacturing  towns 
of  New  Eiigland  ami  in  the  wheat  regions  of  the  West,  keep  their  language,  ;ind.  to  a 
great  extent,  their  customs.  Canada  was  a  true  colony,  and  has  remain(;d  the  most 
,succes.sful  French  attempt  at  colonization.  I'roui  various  causes.  I.ouisi.ma  has  failed  to 
keep  her  nationality  intact.  In  Lower  Canada,  the  spirit  of  t'hamplaia  ,ind  La  .Salle, 
of  the  (oure.trs  di  iiois,  of  tht;  Iroquois-haunted  settlers  on  the-  narrow  fringe  of  strag- 
gling farms  along  the  .St  L.iwrence — the  spirit  that  kejjt  u|)  the-  light  for  th<'  l-'lurs  de 
Lis  long  after  "the  few  rcres  of  snow"  had  been  abandoneil  by  their  King  has  always 
remained  the  same,  and  still  animates  the  colons  in  the  backwoods.  The  I'rench-Cana- 
dians  have   always    fought    for  a    faith  and    an    idea,  hence    they  ha  e  remained  French. 


FRENCH-CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER. 


67 


As  one  of  tlu;ir  most  celebrated   I*"rench  orators    pointed  out    at    the    <j;reat   national   ffite 

of    St.    Jean    liaptiste    at    Quebec    in     1880,    that    was    the    secret    of    it  all;    while    the 

Thirteen    Colonies,  whicii    fought    for    material 
interests,  are  American,   not   l^'n^lish. 

Whatever  the  cause,  there  is  no  doubt  as 
to  the  fact  of  I'rench  nationalil)'.  The  north 
shore  of  the  St.  Lawrence  is  more  I'rench 
than  is  the  south,  where  the  proxinv'  ,•  of  the 
United  States  and  the  influence  of  the  English- 
settled  eastern  townships  are  sensible.  In  the 
western  ])art  of  the  I'ro\itu'c,  the  num<;rical 
proportion  of  I'rench  is  smaller  and  their  char- 
acteristics are  less  marked  ;  but  from  Montreal 
downwards —the  towns  of  course  c?.\c('|)ted— you 
are  to  all  intents  in  a  land  where  Ivnglish  is 
not  spoken.  Below  Quebec,  far  down  to  the 
Labrador  coast,  is  the  most  purely  brench  por- 
tion of  all.  \'ou  ma\  find  greater  simplicity 
of  lift',  and  more  ol  the  old  customs,  in  such  a 
primaival  parish  as  Isle  aux  Coiidres,  farther 
down  the   ri\er  ;    the  people  on   the  coast  where 

the  St.  Lawrence  becomes  the  gulf,  are  sailors  and   lishermen   rather  than   farmers;  those 

along  the  Ottawa  are  lumberers  and  raftsmen  ;  but   the  Cote 

de    Heaupre   is  fairly  typical  of  the  whole  of   I'^-ench-Canada. 
The     p, lines    of     its     five     parishes,     L'.Xnge 

(iardien.     Chat(..u      Richer,      Samte 

Heaupre.   .St.   jo.uhim,  and   St. 

Fereol,    tell    you    at  once    you 

are  in   -a    laml    wiiii    a  religion 

and   a   history.       Nothing,    pt'r- 

hajjs,  strikes  a   stranger   more 

than  the    signilicant  nomencla- 
ture of    the    Province.       Lscr)- 

village  speaks  the  faith  of  the 

people.    He  Jesus,  Sainte  Foye, 

L'Assum|ili<)n.  L'l'Lpiphanie,  St. 

Joseph,  Ste.  Croi.\,  Ste.  Anne, 

St.    Barlhelemi,   St.    Eustache, 

Notre    Dame   des    Ang(!s,    ar»' 


HAHII.Wr     AM)     SNOW-SHOKS. 


i 


L'AN(il-:    CAKhiKN. 


6£ 


QUEBEC. 


\    ' 


V  .(      '^ 


r^ 


not  mere  desijj^nations.  The  pious  commemorations  and  joyful  celebrations  of  the 
patron  saint  or  particular  festival  show  it.  Hills,  rivers  and  lakes  tell  of  military 
achievements,  of  missionary  voyages,  of  dangers  encountered,  of  rest  after  peril  past, 
^,^  tiic  hopi's  that  animated  the  voyagcurs  pushing  through  the  maze  of  forest  and 
stream  in  search  of  the  golden  West,  of  grand  prospects  and  lovely  landscapes,  of 
quaint  st'ml)ianc'es  and  fond  reminiscence  of  home.  Take  just  a  few  of  these  names: 
Calumet,  Sault  au  RecoUet,  Beiange,  Carillon,  Chaudiere,  Pointe  aux  Trembles,  Bout 
de  L'lle,  Lachine,  I'ortage  du  Fort,  Beaupre,  Belcjeil,  La  Lievre,  La  Rose,  Chute 
au  Blondeau,  Riviere  Quelle,  Riviere  au  Chien,  Montreal,  Quebec,  Joliette,  Beauport. 
Each  suggests  a  stor\'  of  its  own  ;  most  of  tiiem  have  their  associations  of  iiistory 
and  tradition,  ;uh1  lliere  are  thousands  like  them.  The  Frencii  knew  iiow  to  name  a 
country.  In  ]>oint  of  beauty  and  significance,  their  names  are  imcqualled  ;  and  tlu'y  not 
only  described  the  land  as  do  tlu'  'ndians — they  literally  christened  it.  F.v;:n  where  it 
comes  to  \  erpetuating  the  memories  of  men,  what  a  sonorous  ring  tliere  is  about  Cham- 
plain,  Ric'^elieu,  .Sorcl,  Chambly,  Varennes,  Contrecd-ur,  Longueuil  and  Beauharnois, 
una])proaciiab"e  by  Kn-;iish  analogues.  Point  Levis  is,  ',n  .ruth,  not  a  whit  nn)re  asthe- 
tic  than  Smith's  I-'alls,  nor  more  useful,  but  there  is  no  denying  its  superiority  of  sountl. 
When  you  know  the  grotesque  and  haughty  legend  that  represents  t!ie  \  irj^in  Mary  in 
heaven  telling  a  Ciievalier  de  Levis,  "  Cousin,  keep  on  your  hat,"  you  can  no  longer 
compare  the  two  names,  for  you  (piite  un/^erstand  wh)'  the  Le\  is  famii)-  siuiuid  iiave  a 
Point  as  well   ,-is  an   .\rk  of  its  own. 

L'Angc  CJarilien  lies  just  b(\(iiul  the  famous  I'alls  of  Montnor<'nr\-.  Set  in  irtM's  on 
the  slope  of  the  hills,  which  here  grow  close  on  the  river,  anil  slaniing  high  o\er  the 
north  channel,  th<?  \illage  commands  an  e.xquisite  view,  the  placiu  beaut)  of  which  makes 
"The  Guardian  .Angel"  ;i  luost  appropriate  name.  The  spot  has  not  aUvajs  had  such 
peaceful  associations.  Wolfe's  troops,  those;  "  b'r.iser's  Highi.inilers "  who  afterwards 
turned  their  swords  into  ploughshares  so  effectually  I  nat  their  descendants  at  Murra)' 
Bay  and  K.imouraska  are  Prench  (nen  to  having  forgotten  their  f.ilhers'  language, 
ravaged  this  ])arish  and  Chateau  Richer  from  one  em!  to  the  other,  destroyed  all  the 
crops,  and  burned  .ilmost  every  house.  There  is  little  trace  of  the  devastation  now,  e.. 
cept  in  the  stories  that  okl  hahitans  have  heard  th<'ir  elders  tell.  Two  quaint  little 
chapels  stand  one  on  each  side,  a  few  arpais  from  the  parish  church.  Tluy  were 
originally  intendeil  for  mortuary  chapels  during  the  winter,  when  tlu;  frost  prr\i:nts  graves 
being  dug,  and  for  use  rit  the  celebration  of  the  "  FOte  Dieu  "  or  "Coipus  Christi  "  in 
June,  the  procession  going  to  one  or  tlie  other  in  ■  Iternatc  years.  On  these  occasions, 
they  vv()\il(l  be  ga;'  with  tlon'ers,  flags,  and  evergreenr,.  Beside  one  of  thcni  is  the  little 
plot  used  for  the  burial  of  heretics,  excommunicated  persons,  and  uiil''|)iized  infants. 
There  is  always  such  a  -orner  in  every  village  cemetery,  never  a  large  one.-,  fo.-  the 
people  are  too    go')d  Calliolics    not  to  iiave    an  i  ,t(.'nse    dread  of  lying  in  unconsecnited 


I 


FRENCH-CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER. 


69 


jTround,  and  too  charitable  to  consign  .strangers  to  the  fate  they  fear  for  themselves. 
The  chapel  farthest  clown  the  river  is  now  a  consecrated  shrine  of  Notre  Uame  de 
Lourdes.  Before  the  statue  of  our  Lady  burns  a  perpetual  light,  and  she  divides  with 
La  Bonne  Ste,  Anne  de  Beaupre  the  devotions  of  thousands  of  pilgrims  annually. 

The  course  of  settlement  along  the  St.  Lawrence  is  well  defined.  Close  to  the  river, 
in  a  belt  from  two  to  ten  miles  wide,  on  the  north  shore,  lie  the  okl  I'rench  farms. 
Back  of  these,  among  the  foot-hills,  is  a  second  range  of  settlements,  for  the  most  part 
Irish  and  .Scotch.  Farther  in  are  the  colons  or  pioneers,  who,  no  longer  able  to  live 
upon  the  subdivision  of  their  patrimoiitc  or  family  inheritance,  commence  again,  as  their 
ancestors   did,  in   the  backwoods.     I'arallel  roads,  painfully  straight    for  miles,  mark  out 


'-CU      I   \I<MS. 


the  ranges  into  which  the  seigniories  and  parishes  arc  di\idcd.  These  ranges  or  concessions 
are  sometimes  numbered,  sometimes  nanietl,  almost  universally  after  a  saint.  On  the 
south  shore,  tlu>  Iwdt  of  settlement  is  much  witier.  .At  the  westward  of  the  I'ro.mce  it 
extends  to  the  IJnitt^d  States  l)()undary  line,  but  narrows  as  it  approaches  Quebec,  so 
that  hiiow  the  cit\-  the  arrangement  is  much  the;  same  as  on  the  north  side.  In  fact, 
French-Canaila  is  very  truly  descrii)C(.l  as  two  continuous  villages  along  the  St.  Lawrence. 
The  succession  of  white  cottages,  each  on  its  own  little  paralh  lognim  of  land,  has 
struck  every  traveller  from   L;i   Ilontan  to  the  present  day. 

The  narrow  farms,  or  tcrrcs,  as  they  are  called,  catch  the  eye  at  once.     Originally 
three  arpens  wide  by  th.irt)  deep  (^the  aipcnt  as  a  line:'!  mea' iire  equals  iSo  French  or  191 


70 


QUEfiF.C. 


w 


w 


F.nijlish  feet),  or  about  200  yards  by  a  little  over  a  mile,  they  have  been  sululivitled 
accordiii}^  to  the  system  of  int'.'state  succession  under  the  Coutume  de  Paris,  wliicii  gives 
property  in  etjual  shares  to  all  the  children,  until  the  fences  seem  to  cover  more  groun<i 
than  the  crops.  The  division  is  lonj^itudinal,  so  that  each  heir  gets  an  equal  strip  of 
beech,  marsh,  plough  land,  pasture,  .uid  forest.  The  lu)uses  line  tile  road  lliat  runs  along 
the  top  of  the  river  bank,  or  marks  tiie  front  of  the  concession  if  it  lies  back  an\-  distance, 
'ihis  arrangement  is  but  a  carrying  out  of  tiie  principle  u|)()n  whicli  tlu'  original  settle- 
ment was  fornunl,  to  gain  all  tiie  advantages  of  tiie  river  fi-ontage.  The  entire  organi- 
zation of  French-Canada  depended  on  it.  The  system  was  well  adapted  for  easy  com- 
munication in  the  early  days  of  the  colony  ;  tiie  river  was  the  liighwax' — in  summer,  for 
canoes  —in  winter,  for  sleighs  ;  so  that  the  want  of  good  roads  was  not  a  serious  tlisail- 
vantage.  it  was  also  well  suited  for  ilefence  against  the  Irocjuois,  wiio  in  tluMr  bloody 
raids  had  to  follow  tlie  course  of  the  streams.  The  settlers  could  fall  back  u|)on  (;uli 
other,  gradually  gaining  strength  until  the  scigiuiirs  block-house  was  rt-ached  and  a  stand 
made  while  the  lU'ws  went  on  from  farm  to  farm,  and  the  whole  colony  slooil  to  ;irnis. 
Ill  the  district  of  Quebec  you  ma)'  often  hear  a  liahitanl  speak  of  going  "an  fort," 
meaning  thereby  "  au  village," — a  curious  surxival  of  those  lighting  days. 

In  winter  the  ice  is  still  the  best  of  all  roads.  Fong  lanes  of  bushes  and  small 
spruces,  dwindling  away  in  diijtant  perspective,  mark  out  the  track,  to  kt(  p  which  would 
otherwise  be  no  easy  matter  at  night  or  in  a  snowstorm,  and  i)oint  out  the  "  air  holes  " 
causi'tl  by  the  "shoving"  or  moving  en  masse  of  the  ice  that  usually  follows  any  change 
in   the  level  of  the  river. 

This  universal  parallelogramic  shape  is,  however,  V('r\'  disadxantagrous  to  the 
development  of  a  country,  being  to  no  small  e.\t(Mit  ;uiti-soiial  ami  partirularK  uiifaxDur- 
able  to  a  general  school  system.  The  geograjihical,  not  the  mental  condition  of  tlie  liahi- 
tanl has  milit.itcd  most  against  intellectual  and  social  inipro\enient.  1  lure  were  no 
points  of  concentration  for  the  int«,'rcliange  of  ideas,  save  the  gathering  at  the  parish 
church  on  Similays  and  fCte-days  when,  after  High  Mass,  the  crowd  lingers  to  luar  the 
liuissier's  publications  of  official  notices  at  the  church  door;  or,  once  in  a  wiiile,  to  listen 
to  electioneering  addresses.  The  villages  are,  as  before  notetl,  for  the  most  ])art  long, 
straggling  lines  of  houses,  with  hardly  any  sign  where  one  begins  aiul  the  other  ends, 
sav(?  the  spire  of  another  church,  with  the  iK'ighbouring  cottages  a  littli:  closer  together. 
There  are  no  country  gentry.  The  seigneur  raicly  resides  up(Ui  his  estate,  and  when 
he  does,  his  prestige  Is  r.o  longer  what  il  was  ;  he  is  often  merely  a  liabitaiil  himself, 
one  of  the  people,  as  are  the  cnre,  the  couph;  of  shopkeepers,  the  \illage  notar),  anil 
the  doctor,  who  compose  the  notables.  The  judicial  terms  every  month  at  the  Chef 
Lieu,  which   in  a  wav  corre; 


spor 


by 


bustle  of    the  Assizes    in  an   Fnglish  or  Untarian  County.       I''or  the    liabilaiis   not    close 
to  one  of    the  large  cities  there  is  no  going    to  market,  as  nearly  ever)thing  they    raise 


.it 


" 


FRENCH-CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CIIIKACI'ER. 


7» 


is  consumed  by  themselves  at  home.  The  isolation  of  the;  curi's,  their  zeal  for  their 
pastoral  work  and  the  incessant  demands  iijjon  their  time,  used  to  prevent  much  study 
and  practice  of  aj;riculture  as  a  science,  or  much  attention  to  the  education  of  their 
flocks  in  anythinif  init  n-lij^ious  duties.  In  the  old  days,  when  seigneur  and  eurd  both 
ilerived  tiu-ir  inconu,'  from  imposts  on  produce,  tiie  dejj^rec  of  consideration  in  which  a 
habilaiil  was  held  by  his  superiors,  ant!  consequently  iiis  respectability,  was  settled  prin- 
cipally by  tlic  amount  of  wiieat   lie  sowed. 

W'itli  tile  eueri^etic  development  of  colonization  on  the  Crown  lands,  the  establish- 
ment of  agricultural  societies,  tile  opening  of  roads,  tiie  construction  of  the  Provincial 
railway,  the    liberal    aid    given    by    the    Government    to    private    railway   enterprise,  and, 


'.%■ 


CHATKAU     RICHER. 


abov  all.  the  excellent  school  system,  this  state  of  things  is  fast  disappearing.  Though 
it  may  recpiirc  anotlier  generation  or  two  to  overcome  the  influence  of  habits  centuries 
old,  origin:Tliy  founded  in  reason,  and  still  rooted  in  popular  affection  by  custom  and 
tradition,  there  is  every  indication  that  before  long  Lower  Canada  and  its  lialiilaii.s  may 
become  in  effect  what  by  nature  they  are  meant  to  be,  one  of  the  most  prosperous  of 
countries  and   intelligent  of  jx'oples. 

Chateau   Richer,  which,  in  natural  beauty,  equals  L'Ange  Gardien,  is  the  ni-xt  parish 
to  the  eastward.      It  geis  its  u.ime  from  an  old  Indian    trailer,  whose    chateau  near   the 


72 


Qunnnc. 


ill 


river  is  now  but  a  small  heap  of  ruins  almost  lost  in  the  luidcrj^rowth.  The  hill  here 
advances  abruptly  towards  the  river,  forming,  where  the  main  road  crosses  its  |)rojectinjij 
spur,  a  commanilinj;  elevation  for  tiu!  iiandsome  stone  churcii  that  towers  over  the  cottaj/es 
which  line  the  gracefully  receding  curve  beyond.  Not  man)  years  ago  the  blackened 
walls  of  a  convent  lay  at  tiie  focit  of  this  same  hill,  witnesses  of  tin;  ruin  workrd  at 
the  time  of  tlie  Conquest.  Knox  sa)s  in  his  journal,  that  the  priest,  at  the  head  of  his 
parishioners,  fortitietl  the  building  and  hckl  it  against  an  I'lnglish  detachmi  iit  ami  two 
pieces  of  artillery,  but  it  was  reduced  to  ashes  ;  ^he  remnant  of  its  brave  garrison  were 
scaljied  by  the  Iroijuois  allies  of  the  English.  It  is  far  more  likely  that  the  brave  (uri 
stayed  with  his  llock,  to  comfort  them  to  the  last,  than  that  he  led  them  on.  However 
that  may  be,  the  convent  has  been  rebuilt,  an  1  is  now  the  parish  school. 

The  seigniories  or  large  tracts  in  which  the  land  was  originally  granted,  varied 
much  in  size,  i)ut  usually  corresponded  with  the  ecclesiastical  division  into  parishes.  As 
territorial  divisions,  thcv  have  been  supi^lanted  by  tht:  modern  munici^)al  system.  Many 
of  them  are  still  held  by  the  descenilants  of  the  grantees;  others  hav(!  passeil  into  the 
hands  of  strangers.  .Some  are  owned  by  religious  corporations,  the  principal  of  these 
being  the  Island  of  Montreal,  St.  Sulpice  and  the  Lake  of  Two  Mountains — all  of 
which  belong  to  tlu^  St'mir.,  ry  of  St.  Suljjice  at  Montreal— and  that  of  the  Cot'.'  ile 
Beaupre,  owned  by  the  Ouebec  Seminary.  .Since  the  abolition  of  feudal  tenure  by  the 
Act  of  1854,  which  placed  a  large  sum  'n  the  hands  of  the  Ciovernment,  to  be  paid  to 
the  scigiifiirs  in  extinction  of  their  rights,  their  former  dignit\-  has  sadly  dwindled.  The 
title  is,  in  most  cases,  but  a  barren  honour,  though  in  one  instance — that  of  the  Baron)' 
of  I.ongueuil — it  has  recently  been  recognized  as  carrying  with  it  a  jLitcnt  of  n()l)ilit)'. 
It  h.ul  been  the  intention  of  Louis  XI\'.,  in  foimding  a  feuilal  s)stem  in  Can.ula,  to 
or. .ate  a  territorial  aristocracy,  but  in  avoiding  the  danger  of  sowing  the  tet;th  of  the 
dragon  it  had  cost  the  Bourbons  so  much  to  kill,  he  bestoweil  his  favours  upon  a  class 
unable  to  support  their  honours.  The  consequence  was  that,  in  most  cases,  the  seigneur 
made  the  complaint  of  the  unjust  steward,  that  "  to  dig  he  knew  not  ami  to  beg  he  was 
ashamed,"  and  prayed  to  be  allowed  to  drop  his  nobility  and  earn  his  li\ing  the  best 
way  he  could. 

The  titles  had,  therefore,  nearly  quite  disappeared  before  the  Contjuest.  The  seig- 
niorial rights  were  never  very  extensive.  They  consisted  principally  in  the  Ce)is  el  J\eiites, 
or  annual  ground-rent  paid  by  the  eensitaire  for  his  holding,  and  in  the  Aiv/v  et  J  'eii/es, 
or  fine  collected  on  each  transfer  of  a  property  from  one  tenant  to  another.  The  former 
were  very  trifling,  something  lik(!  two  sous  per  acre  being  the  usual  amount  in  hard 
cash,  with  ;i  bushel  of  wlu-at,  a  fowl,  a  pigeon,  or  a  sucking-pig,  as  payment  in  kind. 
On  rent-ilay,  in  the  month  of  November,  the  farm-yanl  of  the  manoir  would  present  a 
lively  scene,  in  droll  contrast  to  the  solemn  dignit)-  with  which  the  seigiieitr,  seated  in 
his  large  'jhair  before  a  table  covered   witJi   his  hugi:  accoimt-books,  and   in   tlif  old  days 


/■'A'/:\C7/-C.I.V.l/)/.I.V   l.lFli   .l\f)   CI l,\l< ALTER. 


n 


with  his  sworil  laid  in  front  of  liini,  rccci\c(i  the  sahitations  and  compliments,  and  weighed 
tiu'  excuses  of  his  leiisitnircs,  wlio  rivalled  the  Irish  peasant  in  chronic  impeciiniosity 
and  inj^eiiioiis  devices.  TIk-  /.0(fs  cl  I'lii/cs  were  a  more  serious  imposition,  amounting 
to  one-twelfth  of  tlic  |)rlce  of  sale.  I'hey  were  a  hindrance  to  the  progress  of  the 
country,  for  they  discouraged  improvements  by  the  tenant,  and  jjrevented  the  infusion 
of  new  hlood  anil  the  s])read  of  new  ideas.  They  seem,  however,  not  to  have  been 
considereil  so  by  the  ccnsitaircs  themselves.  In  reality,  they  were  an  e.xpression  of  the 
domesticit}-  of  I'rench-Canadians.  who  dread  the  breaking  up  of  families,  and  live  for 
generation  after  g(;neration  ujjon  the  same  land,  with  a  tenacity  and  affection  equalled 
only  by  their  industry  and  endurance,  when  at  length  home  and  kindred  have  been  left. 
In  connection  witii  tiie  motives  for  the  imposition  ol  this  t'uie,  one  of  which,  no  doubt, 
was  the  desire  tf)  keep  the  people  bound  to  the  land,  and  anotlier  the  wisli  to  profit 
by  the  rare  chance  of  a  ifiisitairc  ha\  ing  ready  money  tliough  tiie  origin  ol  the  Lods 
ct  I'liitis  in  re.ilily  leatls  back  to  llie  earliest  feudalism — it  is  curious  to  note  such 
contlicting  traits  in  the  same  people.  The  contrast  is  historical.  It  was  haril  to  persuade 
the  home-loving  [leasaiitry  of  !•" ranee  to  emigrate  when,  in  1663,  the  King  took  up  so 
vigorously  his  ilream  of  an  llmpire  in  the  West.  Once  in  La  Nouvelle  l-rance,  however, 
such  was  the  spirit  of  adventure,  that  it  almost  immediatijly  became  necessary  to  issue 
an  eilict  forbidding  liicir  wanderings,  and  com|)<'lling  them  to  maki-  their  clearings  con- 
tiguous and  their  p.uishes  as  much  as  iiossiblc  in  the  form  of  those  in  braiue.  Within 
a  hiuidred  years  a  penalty  had  to  be  imposed  u|)(iii  too  close  settlement  and  small  farms, 
in  order  10  bruig  llie  sr /);■)/ c/ns'  estates  all  uniU.T  cultivation.  At  the  prest'nt  time  a 
great  aim  of  llie  (io\crnment  is  to  discourage  emigration,  and  to  aid  by  every  means 
the  repatriation  of  hrench-Canadians  and  colonization  in  the  back  country.  One  of  the 
most  potent  means  of  effecting  this  is  foimd  to  l)e  their  strong  family  affection. 

There  was  anothiT  right  incidental  to  the  Loc/s  ct  I'cii/ts — tlu!  /'>roit  dc  Ri trait,  or 
privilege  of  pre-emption  at  tiu-  highest  price  bidilen  for  land  within  forty  days  after  its 
sale  ;  this,  howescr,  was  not  much  used.  The  onl\  other  right  of  real  consetpu-nce  was 
the  Droit  dt-  Iniiialitc.  h\  which  the  icusitairc  was  boimd  to  grind  his  corn  at  the  seig- 
neur x  mill,  paying  one  bushel  out  of  ever\  fouri  -en  for  toll.  This  arrangement  suited 
the  habitant  very  well.  I  le  is  sa\ing  enough,  .uid  manages  to  accumulate  a  litile  capital 
sometimes,  but  it  goes  into  the  savings  bank,  not  unfrequently  into  an  old  stocking. 
The  risk  of  an  investment  is  too  much  for  him,  and  he  used  to  prefer  that  the  seigneur 
should  make  tiu;  nect:ssary  outla\s,  whiie  all  that  he  was  called  upon  for  would  be  a 
sacrifice  of  part  of  his  crop.  In  this  way,  however,  all  industrial  enterprise  was  ham- 
pered anil  discouraged  by  the  monopoly  of  the  water  |)ower.  Under  the  French  n'gime, 
a  ci\il  and  criminal  jurisdiction  over  his  vassals,  var\ing  in  extent  according  to  the 
dignity  of  ihe  tief  was  theoretically  \ested  in  tlu'  seigneur;  and  all  the  three^grades 
known    to    ImuIiI    l.iw      the    basse,    inoveune    anil    Iiaute    justiee — theoretically    existed    in 


■ni 


74 


QUKBEC. 


% 


Canaila.  hut   its   exercise  was    rare,  owinjj;  to  tilt;   expense  of    k('(|iin^  up  tlie    machinery 
of  a  court  and  the  petty  amount  of  its  cojjnizance. 

These  reUcs  of  feudalism  liave  a  curious  interest  to  the  anti(|uarian  and  also  a  very 
practical  one  as  rej^arils  the  i)roj^ress  of  the  country,  existinji;  as  tiny  did  in  the  New 
World  and  under  tiie  prolciiion  of  ilir  Hriiisli  Constitution,  ,uid  still  livinj;  in  the 
memories  and  lan^uaj^e  of  liu-  pn'sent  j^eneration. 

One  of  the  most  interestinj,'  aspects  of  liic  feudal  tenure  was  the  social  relation 
between  seigneur  ami  (viiailaiic.        lliis  w.is    niMiiy  alwa\s    a    paternal  one,  so  much  so, 

inileed,  that  it  was  (|uite  as  much 

irtjsy  of 

odfather 

of    his 


WAYblUl.     WAIl-.Kl.Nt;      IkOLi.U. 


censitaircs.  Amonj^  his  in,in\  jrraphir  descriptions  of  life  under  tlic  <  )ld  R('i;ime, 
M.  de  (iaspe  j;ives  an  ainusin^r  account  of  a  friend  receiving  a  New  \'c.ir's  visit 
from  a  hundred  godsons.  The  iinvioir  was  all  that  "  tiic  (ircat  1  louse"  of  an  l!nqlish 
stpiire  is  and  more,  for  the  intercourse  between  scii^nciir  antl  ccusitairc  was  freer 
and  more  intimate  than  that  between  sipiire  and  tenant.  In  spite  of  the  nominal  sub- 
jection, the  ciiisitairc  was  less  dej)endent  and  subservitMU  than  the  I'.nglish  peasant. 
It  is  impracticable  here  lo  go  into  any  detailed  description  of  the  seigniorial  tenure, 
its  intluences  and  die  mode  of  its  abolition  ;  but  without  some  knowledge  of  it, 
the  actual  as  well  as  the  past  condition  of  Lower  Canada  would  Ije  im|)OssibIe  to 
understand.      The  whole  system    if  colonization  originally  rested  u|)on  two  men,  tiie  scig- 


/'K/iXC/UANAP/AN  IJI'li   AM)   CHARAl  IHK. 


75 


tieur  and  the  curi,  Throiiijh  tlum  x\w  riovcrnmrnt  workctl  its  military  and  rdij,nous 
or^'ani/ations,  while  their  intircsls  in  the  soil,  from  which  both  dcriviid  their  income, 
were  identical.  "  The  Sword,  the  Cross,  and  the  I'louj^h  "  have  been  said  to  explain  the 
secret  of  I*"rench-Canadian  nationality.  These  three  came  together  in  their  hands.  Of 
courst!,  all  around  the  okl  I'rench  st^ttlements  the  system  of  freehold  u|)()n  which  the 
Crown  lands  ar<'  irrante<l  has  produced  j^real  ihan^<-s  in  manners,  customs,  and  ideas, 
but  the  inlluence  of  the  (lid  state  of  tiling's  is  still  stron^jly  markeil.  In  the  face  of  all 
the  improvements  effected  and  pro^rnss  maile  since  its  abolition,  it  served  its  purpose 
well,  and,  as  the  Abbe  Cas},frain  remarks,  "  The  democratic  and  seculari/inji  spirit  of 
our  ajje  is  o|)|)osed  to  these  feudal  and  ecclesiastical  institutions,  but  we  may  be  per- 
mitted to  doubt  whetluT  it  coidil  have  invented  a  system  better  adapted  to  the  jjenius 
of  our  race  and  to  the  n<'eds  of  the  situation." 

There  are  few  drives  in  the  Province  |)reltier  than  tiiat  from  Quebec  to  .St.  Joachim, 
as  it  winds  aloiii;  between  llie  iiiils  and  tiie  river  throuifh  Ueauport,  past  l.'.Anj^i;  (iar- 
dien,  Chate;ni  Kicher,  and  Ste.  .\nne,  crossinjj  on  the  way  tiie  Montmorency,  Sault  a  la 
Puce,  Riviere  aux  Chiens,  and  .Ste.  .\nne,  besides  a  host  of  smaller  streams.  Once  out- 
side the  t()ii-j,Mtes,  the  ruj^ireil  streets  of  Quebec  ^ive  place  to  jmi  excellent  macada- 
mizeil  road  kept  in  capital  onler.  In  summer,  wizened  old  loinp'crs,  too  bent  anil  worn 
out  for  any  otiier  work,  salute  you  from  the  tops  of  ilu?  piles  of  stones  they  lazily 
hammer  between  tile  complacent  puffs  of  their  pipes  anil  their  comments  on  passers-by. 
Then;  is  a  j(reat  ileal  of  work  in  these  okl  fellows,  and  their  cheerfulness  lasts  to  the 
eiiii.  rile  I'icnch-Canadian  is  a  capital  labourer,  slow  perhaps,  but  sure,  lie  is  docile 
and  willing;,  and  his  lijrht-heartedness  jrets  over  all  ditViculties.  "  Your  merry  heart  j^oes 
ail  till'  d.i\',  your  sad  one  tires  in  a  niile-o,"  is  his  motto.  In  winter  you  have  to  turn 
out  to  let  till-  snow-plou;.,'li  witii  its  t^re.it  winjjs  and  its  lonjj;  ti.'am  of  six  or  ei^ht  horses 
jTO  past  amid  cheery  shouts  from  its  jfuides,  whose  rosy  faces  and  icicleil  beards  tojiping 
the  clouds  of  snow  that  cover  their  blanket  coats  make  tlicMii  look  like  sd  many  bather 
Christmases. 

There  is  a  jjreat  ileal  to  see  alon^  the  ro.id  besides  the  be.uitilul  sceui  y  that  meets 
the  eye  everywhere.  Sprinj^s  are  abundant  in  the  i^ravelly  soil.  'They  trickle  down  the 
bank  under  the  trees,  makinjf  delicious  nooks  by  tiie  patiis  where  wooilen  spouts  con- 
centrate their  llow.  Wells,  of  course,  are  not  much  needed  alonj;  the  hillside.  If  \()U 
atop  to  ilrink  you  will  probably  have  an  opportunity  to  appreciate  French-Canadian 
civility.  The  odds  are  j^reatly  in  f.ivour  of  some  of  the  host  of  brown-skinned,  black- 
eyed,  merry-lookintj  cliildren  that  play  about  the  nei^hbourini;  house  bcinfj;  sent  over  to 
ask  if  "  Monsieur  will  not  by  preference  have  some  milk  ?'"  You  like  the  clear  ice-cold 
water.  "  Bun,  c'est  bonne  fcaii  frctte  quaiid  on  a  soif,"  but  "  Monsieur  will  come  in, 
perhaps,  and  rest,  for  unrr  il  fait  chaiid  cct  ap)<:s-i)iidi."  Monsieur,  however,  goes  on 
amid  all  sorts  of  ^ood  wishes  and  polite  farewells. 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


'/ 


^ 


1.0 

^"ilM   IIIIM 

^-   ilM    1  2.2 

I.I 

..  liitt 

11111=^= 

2.0 

ll!l  1  R 

1.25 

1.4 

111^ 

1.6 

V} 


(^ 


/2 


^/. 


'c-1 


■c'l 


<r-.: 


^^ 


vf!^ 


Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  NY    14580 

(716)  872-4503 


c. 


Q- 


C-P. 


> 


76 


QUEBEC. 


It  seems  strange  to  see  the  women  at  work  in  the  fie'ds.  Their  \^\\\^\  siiirts  and 
enormous  hats,  however,  are  fine  bits  of  detail  for  a  picture,  and  tliey  iiaving  been 
used  to  such  labours  all  their  lives,  do  not  mind  it.  Yountj  ijirls  of  the  poorer  class 
hire  out  for  the  harvest,  together  with  tlieir  brothers.  At  times  you  may  nu'ct  troops 
of  them  on  their  way  to  churcii,  their  bottcs  /''raiifaiscs — as  store-made  boots  are  still 
called,    in    contradistinction    to    bottcs   Indicnnes—s\ung    round    their    neci<s.        Tiiis    iieavy 


lill 


ST.     JOACUl.M. 

labour,  however,  has  told  upon  the  class,  if  ud'  upon  tlie  iiulividiial.  and,  no  doubt. 
accounts  for  the  ill-fa\ouretlness  and  thick,  s(iu.U  figures  of  llie  lower  order  of  Itabitaiis. 
Even  the  children  take  a  good  share  of  hard  work,  and  none  of  the  jjotential  energy  of 
the  family  is  neglected  that  can  possibly  be  turned  to  account.  One  of  the  most  striking 
sights  by  tiie  roadside  of  a  night  towards  the  end  of  autumn  are  the  family  groups 
"breaking"  llax.  After  the  stalks  have  been  steeped  the\-  are  dried  over  lires  jjuilt  in 
pits  on  the  hillsides,  then  stripped  of  the  outer  bark  In  a  rude  home-matle  machine 
constructed  entire!)-  of  wootl.  l)ut  as  effective  as  it  is  sim])ie.  Tiie  dull  gleam  of  the 
sunken  fires  and  tlu'  fantastic  shadows  of  the  workers  make  up  a  strange  scene. 

Not  the  least  curious  features  of  tlu!  dri\(;  are'  the  odd  vehicles  one  meets.  O.xen 
do  much  of  the  heavier  hauling,  their  pace  being  (piite  fast  enougii  for  the  e-asy, 
patient  temperament  of  the  Itabitaul.  to  whom  distance  is  a  mere  abstraction  lime 
and  tobacco  take  a  man  anywhere,  seems  to  be  his  rule.  It  is  impossible  to  find  out 
the  real  length  of  a  journey.  Ask  the  first  luibilaiit  you  meet,  "  I  low  f.ir  is  it  to  Saint 
Quelquechose ?"  "Deux  ou  trois  lieues,  je  pense,  Monsieur,"  will  be  the  ;inswer,  given 
so  thoughtfully  and  politely  that  you  cannot  doubt  its  correctness.  Hut  after  you  have 
covered  the  somewhat  wide  margin  thus  indicated,   you   need   not    be    astonishetl    to    find 


FRENCH-CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER. 


77 


you  have  to  go  still  "  unc  lieue  et  encore,"  or,  as  the  Scotch  put  it,  "  three  miles  and 
a  bittock,"  nor  still,  again,  to  find  the  "encore"  much  the  best  part  of  the  way. 
Another  characteristic  mode  of  measuring  distance  is  by  the  number  of  pipes  to  be 
smoked  in  traversing  it.  "  Deux  pipes  "  is  a  very  variable  quantity,  and  more  satisfactory 
to  an  indeterminate  equation  than  to  a  hungry  traveller. 

The  "  buckboard "  is  a  contrivance  originally  peculiar  to  Lower  Canada.  It  has 
thence  found  its  way,  with  the  F"rench  half-breeds,  to  the  North-west,  where  its  simplicity 
and  adaptability  to  rough  roads  are  much  appreciated.  It  is  certainly  unique  in  con- 
struction. P'lt  a  pair  of  wheels  at  each  end  of  a  long  |)lank  and  a  movable  seat  between 
them  ;  a  large  load  can  be  stowed  away  upon  it,  and  you  are  independent  of  springs, 
for  when  one  plank  breaks  another  is  easily  got.     The  wayside  for^cron,  or  blacksmith. 

need   not  be  a  very  cunning  craftsman  to  do  all  other  repairs.     The  charclti.  or  market- 

m 
cart,   is  another  curiosity  on  wheels,  a  cross  l)etween  a  boat   and  a   gig,  apparently.      I'he 

calecke    is    a    vehicle    of    greater    dignity,   but    sorely    lr\ing  to  that    of    the    stranger,   as, 

perched    high    up    in    a    sort    of    cabriolet    hung    by    leathern    sir.ips    lielween    two    huge 

wheels,  he  flies  up  and  down  the  most  break-neck  hills.       'he  driver  has  a  seat  in  front. 

almost  over  the  back  of    the  horse,  who,    if    it  were   not   for    his  gait,   would   si'eiti    (piite 

an  unimportant  part  of  the  affair. 

It  is  not  very  long  since  dog-carts  were  regularly  used  in  the  cities  as  well  as  in 
the  country,  for  all  kinds  of  draught  purposes,  but  this  has  now  been  humanely  stopped. 
Along  the  roads  they  are  a  common  sight,  and  notwithstanding  the  great  strengtli  of 
the  dogs  used,  it  is  not  pleasant  to  see  one  of  these  black,  smooth-haired,  stoutly- 
built  little  fellows  panting  along,  half  hidden  under  a  load  of  wood  big  enough  for  a 
horse,  or  dragging  a  milk-cart  with  a  fat  old  woman  on  top  of  the  cans.  The)-  are 
generally  well-used,  however,  if  one  may  judge  by  their  good-nature.  Out  of  harness 
they  lie  about  the  doors  of  the  houses  very  contentedly,  and,  like  their  masters,  are  \ery 
civil  to  strangers. 

The  signs  over  the  little  shops  that  you  meet  with  at  rare  intervals  in  the  villages, 
are  touchingly  simple  in  design  and  execution.  An  unpainted  board,  with  lettering 
accommodated  to  emergencies  in  the  most  ludicrous  wa)',  sets  forth  x\\{:  " />oii  iiiarc/ii!" 
to  be  had  within.  The  forgerou,  who  is  well-to-do — in  fact,  quite  nii  liabitant  a  son 
th'se — has,  perhaps,  a  gorgeous  representation  of  the  products  of  his  art.  A  modest 
placard  in  the  nine-i)y-four  |)ane  of  a  tiny  cottage  v'ndow,  announces  "  rafraichissement " 
for  man,  and  farther  on  "  une  bonne  cour  d'ecurie"  provides  for  beast.  At  Ste. 
Anne's,  where  the  little  taverns  bid  against  each  other  for  the  pilgrim's  custom,  one 
Iwtcllicr  bases  his  claim  to  favour  upon  the  fact  of  being  "epoux  de  Mdlle. "  some- 
body. Whether  the  Mdlle.  was  a  saint  or  a  publican  of  renown,  the  writer  knows  not. 
But  the  oddities  of  these  signs  would  inake  an  article  to  themselves,  and  we  must  pass 
on,  with  the  shining  domes  of    convent   and    church   as  landmarks  of    the    next    village. 


■;! 


.m 


7^ 


QUFREC. 


livery  now  and  tlu-n  a  roadside  cross  is  passfd,  sometimes  a  graiul  Calvairc,  resplendent 
witli  stone  and  .t;ililinjj^,  covered  by  a  roof,  ami  from  its  liijrh  platform  sliowing  afar  the 
symbol  of  Christian  faitli.  Sialuea  ot  the  Hlesscd  X'iroin  and  St.  Joseph  .sometimes 
stand  at  each  side  of  ilie  criioilix,  but  siicli  elaljorate  shrini's  ari'  rare,  anil  as  a  jreneral 
rule  a  simple  wooden  cross  enclosed  by  a  paling;  reminds  the  oooil  Catholic  of  his 
faitli.    and    is    saluted    by  a  reverent    lifting    of    his   hat  and  a    pause    in    his  talk    as    he 


ON    TiiK,    KOAi)   TO   sr.    JO.\(  niM. 


^oes  by.  Sometimes  you  meet  little  cliapels  like  those  at  Chateau  Richer.  They 
stantl  open  alvva\s,  and  tin-  countr\'  jx-ople.  as  the\  pass,  drop  in  to  say  a  jiniyer  to 
speed  tjood  souls'  deliverance  and   their  own   journey. 

A  little  off  the  road  you  may  perhajjs  tind  the  ruins  of  an  old  si^k;;nio:ial  imvioir,  out- 
lived by  its  avenue  of  matjnihcent  trees.  The  stout  stone  walls  and  "iron-barred  windows 
tell  of  troublous  times  lon>r  aj.;o.  wiiile  the  vestiges  of  smoolii  lawns  .uid  llie  sleepy 
fishponds  sliow  that  once  the  luxury  of  Versailles  reigned  heri'.  The  oKl  house  has 
gone  tiirougii  many  a  change  of  hands  since  its  first  owner  came  across  the  sea,  a  ga\ 
soldier  in   the  Carignan  regiment,  or  a  scapegrace  courtier  wiio  had  niaile    P.iris  too  hot  for 


FRF./\'C//-C.I\A/)/.L\    /.//■/:    .IAD   C 1 1 A  R  .]CI  UK. 


liiin.  Little  is  left  of  it  now,  save  pi-rliaps 
tlu;  tiny  tha|icl.  iiurici!  in  a  ijrovc  of  solemn 
oaks.  A  few,  \t:ry  fi;w,  of  these  old  l)uiklin_L(s 
have  siirxivoil. 

Ordinary  I'rencli -Canadian  houses,  thoiii^h 
pictiires(iiie  enoiiijli  in  some  situations,  as  when 
yon    come    roinid    a    corner    upon    a    stree'     like 

that  in  Ciiateaii  Richer,  are  much  alike,  A  .j,'.'W  liabitatit,  as  a  well-to-do  farmer  is 
called,  will  have  one  larjrer  and  iietter  furnished  than  those  of  his  poorer  neij^hhoiirs, 
but  the  type  is  th(;  same.  They  are  long,  low,  one-storey  cottat^es,  of  wood,  sometimes 
of  rough  stone,  liut  whether  of  wood  or  stone,  ari'  prim  with  whitewash  often  crossed 
with  l)lack  lines  to  simulate,  in  an  aimisingly  conventional  w,iy,  lourses  of  ri'gnlar 
masonry.       W^    way    of    varitt\,     they    arc     sometimes    [lainted     Mack     or    slate    colour. 


8o 


QUEBEC. 


m. 


l! 


with  whiti!  lint's.  Square  brick  iiiiiUlini^s  witii  mansard  roofs  of  tin,  hare  in  archi- 
tci'ture  anil  surroiuuiiiiirs,  jrjarini;  in  newness  anil  hideous  with  sawed  scroll-work, 
are  unfortunately  sprins^ini;  up  o\er  the  countr\'  in  mistaken  testimony  of  improve- 
ment. The  artist  will  still  prefer  the  old  houses  with  their  unpretentious  simplicity 
and  rude  but  jL;enuine  expressions  of  ornapient.  Their  high,  sharp-pitched  roofs 
aprini;-  from  a  graceful  curve  at  the  projecting  eaves,  over  which  peep  out  tiny 
dormer  windows.  The  shingles  at  the  riilge  and  over  the  windows  are  pointed  by 
way  of  decoration.  Roo'^,  lintels,  and  iloor-posts  are  gaily  painted,  for  the  Itabilixnt 
lo\es  colour  even  if  the  freedom  with  which  he  uses  the  primaries  is  at  times 
rather  liislracting  to  more  culti\ated  eyes.  .\  huge  chiiune\'  built  outside  the 
house  projects  from  the  gable  end,  ;uid  sometimes  tlu'  stairwa\'  also  has  to  lind  room 
outside,  remincling  oPic  of  the  old  I'rench  towns  whose  architi'Cture  served  to  luodel 
these  (juaint  buildings.  A  broad  gallery  runs  along  the  front,  furnishing  pleasant 
shaele  under  its  \ines.  but  darkening  the  interior  into  which  small  casement  windows 
admit  loo  little  light  and  air.  Sometimes  a  simple  platform,  with  ricketty  wooden 
stejis  at  cicli  end  or  a  couple  of  stones  leading  to  the  door,  takes  the  place  of  the 
galler\  and  affords  room  for  a  few  chairs.  .\  resting-|)lac(,'  of  some  kind  there  must 
be,  for  in  sununer  the  leisure  time  of  the  liabitaiil  is  s])enl  at  the  tloor,  the  women 
knitting,  the  men  smoking  thi'  e\  il-smelling  n;iti\'e  tobaccf),  while  ever}'  passer-l)\'  gi\es 
a  chance  for  a  gossiji  and  a  ioke.  The  heav\'  wooden  shutters,  a  sur\i\al  of  the  old 
Indian-lighting  times,  are  tightl\  closed  at  night,  giving  an  appearance  of  security  little 
needeil.  for  robberies  are  almost  uid<nown.  and  in  in;ui\-  districts  locks  are  never  used. 
In  day-time,  the  white  linen  blinds  in  front  are  drawn  down,  which  gives  a  rath<;r  funereal 
look,  and  the  closing  of  the  shutters  cuts  off  the  light  at  night,  making  tht-  roads  \ery 
cheerless  to  the  traveller. 

In  the  district  of  Quebec,  the  ]ieople  are  \cry  foml  of  (lowers.  I'^ven  Ncry  |)Oor 
cottages  have  masses  of  brilliant  bloom  in  the  windows  and  little  garden  plots  in  front 
neatly  ke|5t  ami  assiduousl\-  cultivated,  for  the  altar  of  the  parish  church  is  decorated 
with  their  growth,  and  the  children  present  their  firstfruits  as  an  offering  at  their  iirst 
communion.  .\n  elm  or  two,  with  massits  of  lieautiful  foliage,  ma\'  afforil  grateful  shade 
from  the  intensity  of  the  summer  sun.  .\  row^  of  stiff  Normandy  jjoplars,  brought  from 
old  France  in  Champlain's  or  Frontenac's  time  perhaps,  is  sure  to  be  found  bordering 
the  kitchen  garden  that  is  fenced  off  from  the  road  more  by  the  self-grown  hedge  of  rasp- 
berry and  wild  rose  than  by  the  dilapidated  palings  or  tumble-down  stone  wall.  A  great 
want,  however,  in  the  surroiuidings  of  most  French  farms  is  foliage,  for  practical  as  well  as 
ajsthetical  objects.  The  grand  second  growth  of  maples,  birches  and  elms  that  succeeds 
the  prima-val  forest  has  been  ruthlessly  cut  away,  till  the  landscajje  in  many  districts, 
especially  on  the  north  shore,  betwec.-n  Quebec  and  Montreal,  is  painfully  bare  in  fore- 
groimd,   while  tin:    houses  are    exposed  to  the  keen   north   wind    and   the  cattle    have    no 


FRENCH-CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER. 


8i 


•r" 


AN     (JLI)    URCHAKU 


< 


shelter  from    the    snn    and  storm.      In 

till:     I'rciich     time     the     housi^s     were 

^i'n';rally  siirroiindcil    by    orchards    at  once    ornainrntal    anil 

protitabk'.      Om;    ma\'   evrii    now    occasionally    come    across 

some    dosc(Miilanls    of    ilicm    owins^'    their    oritjin    to    sunny 

France.       In    the    Ct'nv  ;ic   Mtaupre    you  will  see  them  still, 

but    they    ha\e    in    too    man\'    cases    disappeared,    and    it    is 

Mily   witiiiii   a    few    years  past    tliat    fruit-growiui;    has    been    systematical!)-  taken    up    by 

tile    liabiUxns.       'i'he    lar^i'    orciiards    rejjularly    cultivated    on    the     biiami    of    Montreal, 

show  with  wiiat  success  tile   be.uitiful   "St,    Lawrc:nce,"  the  well-named   /•'<fW(7/,\c,  and  the 

pjolden   PoDiDic  (ii-isc,  a   i^^eiuiine  little    Normandx'  |)iii|)in,  can    be    ,q;rown.     Plums,   yellow 

and  blue,  prow   wilil  in   ai)unda.ice.     A  small,  reddish-purple  fruit,  of  pleasant  flavour  and 

not    unlike    a  wild    cherry    in    appearance,  is    plentiful,    as    are    also  cherries,    wild   and 

cultixated. 

Tile  number  and  beaut\'  of  the  waterfalls  on  the  Lower  St.  Lawrence  are  astonishinpf. 
Every  stream  must  lind  its  way  to  the  river  over  the  immense  bank,  and  must  cut 
its  chanml  tliroiij^li  the  tremendous  hills.  In  the  Cote  de  Beaupre  alone,  there  are 
dozens  of  magnificent  falls  not  known  to  Canadians  even  by  name,  thoujrh  within  a 
few  miles  of,  som(!times  close  to,  the  main  road.  Those  on  tiie  Riviere  aux  Chicns 
and  those  from  which  the  Sault  h  la  I'uce  is  named,  are  only  two  e.xamples.  The  I'\-ills 
of  Ste.  Anne  and  tiiose  of  St.  l'"ereol  are  sometimes  iieard  of,  yet  even  they,  strand 
as    they    are    and    lovely    in    their    surroundings,    are    rarely    visited.       Both    are    on    the 


i 


•    t 


82 


\\ 


QUEBEC. 


\ 


Grande  Riviere  Stf.  AniU!.  wiiich  divides  tlie  parisiies.  Its  roiirse  is  nearly  opjiosite 
to  that  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  is  thn.iij,diout  nothing  but  a  succession  ol  tumultuous 
rajiids  anil  stupendous  cataracts. 

Leavinn    the    road    where    the    stream    crosses,    at    which    point    tiiere    is    a    splendid 
view    of    Mount    Ste.    .\nne,   the    hiojicst    of    the    innumeralile    peaks   that   hreak   the  sky- 
line   as    you    look    down    the    river    from    (hie()ec,   a   tlri\c    of    three    miles   through   iieau- 
tiful    wood:     leads    within    sound    of     lallini;    water.       .\noiher    milr    o\(r    a    hnely    jiath 
through    the    heart  of    the    forest,   and  a    sleep  descent    into  a   ra\ine,  l.rin,L;s   \ou    face  to 
face  with  an    immense    wall    of    .;ranile,    its    i)ase    a   m.iss  of    t  he.l   angular  Mocks.     The 
river  narrows  here,  concentratim^'  all  its  j.owers  for  its  tremei.dou--  le.ip    into    the    j^rorge 
that    forms    the    main    channel,    l.ut    oidy    the     swift     rush    of     the     \\at<-r,    tlu'    cloud    of 
spray    and    the    deep     res  erherations     that     echo     from     the     cliff    tell     of     its     fate.        A 
clamber    over    inclined    and    slippery    rocks,    beautifid    with    lich.iis     of     every    hue,    must 
be  risked  before,   lyim^   at   full   leni;th,   you    can    see   the    p.rp.-ndicul.ir  .olunm   of    crystal 
beaten   into  snowy   foam   on   the   rocks  ov.r    a    hundr.-d    feet    below.       .Sh,.oiiiiM    down    a 
second   pitch  the   torrent   breaks  and   rises    in    plume-like    curv.s.       Mvri.uU    of    i^liiterinLT 
j.;ems  dance  in   th.'   play    of    sunli-ht    upon    the    spray.       Tar    aJHue.   the    precipice    rises 
stark  and  gray,  its   face  seamed   with   titanic   masonr\,  its  crest  crownt.t   with  hu-^e  liallle- 
ments,  like  the  wall  of  a  ,L:i,L;anlic  fortress.       The   trees  that  bann.'r  it  al.<.vr  s.-ein  no  lar-er 
than   the  tufts  of    <rrass    that    clin--    in   the    cr<'\ices    of   its   perfectK    perpendictdar    front  • 
great   buttresses   Support   this  mountain  wall,  iiolished  and    bright  uiih    p.rp.iii.,1    moisture. 
Other    two    channels  tear  their  way  down   the  cliff  in   falls  of   Ic^^   vchime  and  grandeur, 
but  of  great  beauty  .is  they  leap   from  shelf  to  shelf,  uniting  at  the  foot  in  a  large  circular 
basin     worn    deep    into    the    black    basalt.       .So    stil!    and    dark,    it    i-,    well    named    ■'The 
Devil's    Kettle." 

The  chasm  through  which  the  main  body  of  th<'  stream  Hows  is  narrow  enough  to 
jump  over;  but  his  would  be  a  steailv  brain  who  could  face  the  l<-ap.  and  a  sure  fate 
who  sh<Mild  miss  his  foothold.  d'he  island  in  the  centr.-  towers  up  in  a  successi(m  of 
giant  steiis,  each  a  huge  cuIk;  of  rock.  'I'lu'se  one  may  desceiul.  and  gain  a  front  view 
of  all  three  I'alls.  Down  stream  one  looks  through  the  narrow  cleft  till  the  boiling 
torrent  is  suddenly  shut  out  tn.m  view  by  a  sharply-projecting  spur.  The  rocks  seem 
to  jar  under  the  immense  weight  of  the  falling  water;  v\\-  and  ear  are  owrpowen d. 
The  scene    is    one    of    unparalleled  grandeur. 

l-'arther  up  the  Ste.  Anne,  after  a  beautiful  drive  along  its  west  bank  and  round  the 
base  of  the  mountain,  the  hill-girt  village  of  St.  bcreol  is  reached.  'I'hrough  forest 
glades,  where  the  moss-festooned  spruces  mourn  ovc  the  prostrate  trunks  ol  their  giant 
predecessors,  and  sunlit  co[).ses  where^  the  goUU'u  leaves  of  the  silver  birch  mingle  with 
the  crimson  of  the  dying  maples,  the  delicate  emc'rald  of  the  (luivering  aspen  and  the 
warm   russet  of    the  ferns  in    magic    harmonies    of    autumn    hues,   tl 


'"&' 


lie    wa\     wnids    on    to 


FRENCH-CANAni.W   /.//■/■    AXP   ClfARlCTI-.R. 


«3 


I 


I'AIJ.S    (Jl'    ST.     I-KKI-.OL. 

where    the    Seven    I'^alls    chase    eacli    other    down    the 

roi'k\-   faee  of  a    hn^e  hill   in   masses  ot    liroken   water. 

Down    a    narrow    cldl    in    the    evergreens    whicli    stand    in    hold    rehef    asj^ainst    the    sky. 

comes  the   first  and   l.u-vst     l-ali.        I.e.ipin-    from  stej;    to    step,    the  torrent  ilasiies    over 


M 


t 


84 


QUEBEC. 


1  1  {I 


::  '■* 


the  second  shelf  in  clouds  of  spray,  its  snowy  fraj^nu-nls  uniting  attain  only  l<>  Ix' 
parted  !))■  a  projecting  rock,  past  whirli  tlic  twin  rapids  nisii,  iliatini;  Iroin  side 
to  side,  as  if  in  searcii  of  eacii  otlicr,  until  liic)  join,  and  i)lunj;<:  toj,'etiier  over 
the  fourth  shelf.  The  fifth  I'all  pours  down  a  steep  decline  and  whirls  in  foaming 
eddies  round  the  inky  depths  of  a  rocky  basin,  upon  which  looks  out  throu^di  the  mist 
a  cave  called  "  Le  Trou  de  St.  I'atriee."  Turninj,'  sharply  to  the  left,  the  stream  rolU  on 
in  heavy  waves  of  dark  water  to  the  sixth  I'all,  and  then  swee|)inij;  throuLjh  close  walls 
of  rock,  plunges  into  an  inaccessible  abyss.  On  both  sidi  s  of  tlie  riser  deep  ravines 
and  hijjh  promontories  follow  each  other  in  rapid  succession,  and  a  thick  jj;rowth  of 
forest  clothes  the   whole. 

Within  the  last  fifteen  years,  ajfriculture  has  made  tjre.it  advances  in  some  parts  of 
the  Province,  much  of  which,  however,  yet  remains  in  a  primitive  (•n(iu<;h  condition.  I.onjf 
isolation,  a  fertile  soil,  simplicity  of  life  and  of  wants,  hasi-  (dnibincd  to  keep  the 
French-Canadian  farmer  pretty  much  what  he  was  in  tlie  middle  of  th(!  last  century.  In 
some  respects  his  ancestors  were  bi'tter  than  he  ;  ihc\'  workeil  on  a  larj^er  scale  and  had 
more  energy.  Tiie  Conquest,  with  its  const'ipunt  wiiolesalc  emigration,  anil  the  unsettled 
political  state  of  the  country  down  to  1S40,  neariv  extinguisheLJ  all  tlx'  spirit  and  in- 
dustry that  had  survived  the  exactions  of  offuials  and  tlie  effects  of  war  during  the 
French  jxriod.  Among  the  habilans  farming  is  deciiledU'  still  in  its  infancy.  Tilling, 
sowing,  reaping  and  storing  are  all  ilone  i)y  hand.  In  the  back  parishes  the  rudest  of 
honie-nuule  ploughs,  dragged  along  by  a  coupli'  of  oxen,  and  a  horse  who  seems  to 
move  the  oxen  that  they  ma\'  move  the  [jlough,  barely  scratch  up  the  soil.  .\  l-rt-nch- 
Canadian  harrow  is  the  most  prim;eval  of  imjilements,  b('ing  at  best  a  rough  WDoilen 
rake,  and  often  merely  a  lot  of  brushwood  fastened  to  a  b(!am.  'Die  scuhe  and 
the  sickle  are  not  \et  displacetl  by  mowing  machines;  all  the  ingenious  contrivances 
for  har\esting,  binding  and  storing.  ;ire  unknown.  Threshing  is  still  done  b\-  tlails  and 
strong  arms,  though  onct:  in  a  while  )'ou  may  hear  lh<'  rattle  of  a  treadmill  where  the 
little  black  pon)'  tramps  away  as  slecpil)-  anil  contentedly  as  his  master  sits  on  a  feiice- 
raii   smoking. 

Wheat,  barley,  oats,  maize  and  buckwheat,  peas  and  beans,  ,ire  the  princijial  grain 
crops.  The  beet-root,  howiver,  is  attracting  attc'ntion,  in  conseipience  of  the  establish- 
ment of  beet-root  sugar  factories,  an  enterprise  cordially  furthered  by  Government  aid  but 
yet  in  its  experimental  stage.  .Should  this  industr\-  be  successful,  it  will  give  a  great 
impetus  to  farming,  and  the  imdertaking  has  the  merit — no  small  one,  in  the  |)eople's 
opinion — of  being  distinctly  French.  Hay  is  abimdant  .itid  \ery  good.  I'lax  and  hemp 
are  raised.  Tobacco  thrives  admirably  in  the  short  but  intensely  warm  stnnmer. 
Patches  of  its  tall,  gracefid,  broad-leaved  plants  waving  in  the  wind  alongside  the  yel- 
low tassels  of  the  Indian  corn,  heighten  the  foreign  aspect  around  some  old  cojtage. 
Vegetables  of  every  kind  grow  luxuriantly.      Delicious  melons  are  abimclant    and    clieap. 


Is 


m  % 


9 


r 


FRENCH-CANADIAN  IJIli  AND   CHARACTER. 


85 


All  sorts  of  jjanUtn  fruit —  strawberries,  raspberries,  ^jooseberries  and  currants  —  are 
plentiful.  Strawberries  are  now  f:;rown  in  larj^e  (piantities  for  the  town  markets.  Grapes 
j;row  wikl  in  abundance.  Immense  quantities  of  maple  suyjar  arc  )carl)'  produced  l)\ 
the  "sugar  bushes"  on  tin:  slopes  of  the  liills.  Its  domestic  use  is  uni\crsal  amoii)^' 
the  luibitaiis,  and  in  the  towns  the  syrup,  sugar  and  hiil'cic — or  the  sugar  in  an  un- 
crystallized,  pummy  state — are  in  great  demand.  Tlie  proce.sses  of  tapping  tiie  treses, 
collecting  the  sap,  "boiling  down,"  ami  "sugaring  off,"  have  been  de.scrijjed  loo  often 
to  repeat  here ;  but  a  visit  to  a  sugar  camp  will  well  repay  anjbody  who  has  not 
seen  one,  and  is  a  favourite  amusement  for  picnickers.  The  I'Vench-Canadians  cling 
to  the  most  primitive  methods  in  this,  as  in  everything  else,  the  result,  if  an  economic 
loss,   being   at  least  a  picturesque  gain. 

Such  fertility  as  the  Province  possesses  should  make  it  a  rich  agricuiturai  countr)-. 
It  is  ^^'lliy  so.  A  very  erroneous  impression  exists  that  all  tlie  best  land  has  been 
exhausted  ;  but  this  is  an  idea  akin  to  the  one  that  cxcr)-  I'rcncii-Canadian  wears 
moccasins  and  is  called  Jean  Maptiste.  It  is  (piite  true;  that  a  couijle  ol  luuulrcd  years 
of  persistent  tillage  niton  an  evil  routine,  and  want  of  opportunities  to  see  anything 
better,  have  run  down  the  old  I'"rench  farms ;  but  e\  (mi  as  it  is,  the)-  j  ield  well.  Many 
an  English  farmer  would  be  glad  to  get  such  land,  anil  woukl  work  wonders  with  :. 
littlt;  manure  ami  proper  rotation  of  crops.  llien  there  are  millions  of  acres  yet 
untouched.  The  slat(-  of  affairs  in  the  Cote  de  Bcaupre  is  described  onl)-  as  being 
an  inten.'sting  relic  of  a  period  almost  past.  Agriculture  is  in  a  state  of  Ir.'iisition. 
Already  the  advantages  of  rich  soil,  magnificent  summer  climate,  and  cheap  labour, 
are  being    realized. 

At  Ste,  Anne,  history  and  tradition  blend  with  the  life  and  manners  of  to-day  in  a 
most  striking  way.  The  first  settlers  in  the  Cote  lU;  Beaupre  built  a  little  church  on 
the  bank  of  tlu;  St.  Lawrence,  and  dedicated  it  to  \a\  Bonne  Ste.  .Anne,  in  memor\, 
no  tloubt,  as  l'"erland  says,  of  tin;  celebrated  i)ilgrimage  of  Sainte  .\nne  d'.Xuray  in 
Bretagne.  The  bank,  howcNcr,  was  carried  away  b)"  the  ice  and  the  tlootls.  So  another 
building  was  commenced  in  1657  ujjon  the  site  pointed  out  b\-  M.  de  (Jnc\lus,  the 
Vicar-General,  and  given  by  litienne  tie  Lessard.  It  was  tinish(xl  in  1660.  The  Gov- 
ernor, M.  d'Argenson,  laid  the  first  stone,  and  the  work  was  doni;  by  the  pious  labour 
of  the  habitaiis.  As  one  of  these,  Louis  Guimont  by  name,  racked  with  rheumatism, 
painfully  struggled  to  place  three  stones  in  the  foundation,  he  suddenly  found  his  health 
restored.  Thenceforward,  La  Bonne  Ste.  Anne  de  Beaupre  became  famous  throughout 
all  Canada.  Among  the  pilgrims  that  flocked  to  celebrate  her  fete  each  year,  were 
conspicuous  the  Christian  Hurons  and  Algonquins,  in  whom  their  missionaries  had 
inspired  a  special  devotion  for  the  mother  of  the  Blessed  Virgin.  To  this  da)'  their 
descendants  are  to  be  found  a.nong  the  thousands  of  worshippers  whom  the  steamers 
carry  from  Quebec.     The  pilgrimage  is  not  always  such  an  eas)'  excursion.     Those  who 


86 


(Jl  lililiC. 


have  special  favours  im  implore,  often  trml^'c  on  fnoi  ilic  loi,;,'  journey  to  the  slirinr. 
A  pyrainiii  of  crutclu-s,  trusses,  handai^es,  and  spcit.ulcs  stands  in  tlic  dnircli,  to  attest 
tile  miraoiiious  curijs   \vorl<i  d   liy   fi''li    ;ind    prayiT. 

Tilt'  ^iti'  of  tiu!  old  I'liurili  is  arkrd  hy  a  cliain'l  l)uilt  witli  tin;  olil  materials. 
It  is  roughly  tmisiieil  witiiin,  c(.ntaininj;  on!)  a  few  stained  seats  anil  a  bare-lookinj^ 
altar  which  stands  between  two  qu.iint  imaj,'es  of  Ste.  Marie  Maj,'delaine  and  .Ste.   Anne, 


■V> 


<-|1AI'|;L     ami    (JKUIIO    AT     STK.     ANSI.     |)K     HKAUT'Kf.. 


apparent!)-  of  tlie  time  c/f  Louis  XI\'.  Hy  tiu'  roadside,  clost-  to  tlie  chapel,  stands  ;i 
rougli  jrrotto  surmounted  by  llie  imai'.'  of  llie  sainte  si:t  in  a  niche,  over  whicli  attain 
there  is  a  cross.  Over  the  stones  pours  the  clear  water  ol  a  spring ;  tiiis  the  jjilgrims 
take  away  in  bottles,  for  the  sake  of  its  miraculous  healing  power.  Near-by  is  tlur  old 
presbytery,  and  farther  up  the  wooded  slope,  hidch-n  amon^  the  trees,  is  a  convent  of 
Hospital    Nuns.      Their   gentleness    and    kindness    to    the    sick    that    resort    here    should 


\ 


/•A'/{/VC7/-CyhV.I/)/.l.\    /. //■•/:  ./A7'  (  II A N .M   ri:R. 


87 


'•O 


siiltici'    lo   canniii/.f   each  one    ul    tlicsc    divoi. d    ladies,  whose    hves   are  as    braiitifiil    as 
their  siirroiin(Iinj,'s. 

A  handsome  iv.  w  eliiitch  was  dedicated  ii)  iSjh.  lo  it  were  removed  llie  old 
altar  and  jmlpit.  holii  of  (lie  s.'venleenlh  century,  and  the  nlics  and  ori^'inal  ornaments 
of  the  old  church.  .Aniont;  tiiese  are  an  altar-i)i<'ce  hy  I.e  Hrun,  the  j,dft  of  the 
Marquis  de  Tracy;  a  siKcr  reli(|iiary.  and  a  paintini^  l.y  I.e  i'lancois,  hoth  the  i^ift 
of  Mons.  de  I, aval;  a  rhasuhlc  worked  hy  \\\nv  of  .Austria,  and  a  hone  of  the  lini.er 
of   Ste.   Anne.       'I'here  are  also  a    ^feal    nuniher    of   cx-volo    lablets     some   verv   old   and 


oiJ)   Hoesi;s   .\r    ioi\r    i.i-.vis. 


by  frood  masters — to  commeinorate  deliverances  from  peril  at  sea,  for  Ste.  .Anni;  watches 
specially  over  sailors  and  travellers.  Numbers  of  costly  vestments  have  also  been 
presented,  and  Pius  IX.,  in  addition  to  s^ivin,!.,^  a  f\u  simile  of  the  miracidous  portrait 
of  Our  Lady  of  l'(;rpetual  Help,  set  in  a  jewelled  frame,  issued  a  decree  declaring  the 
shrine  to  be  of  the  first  magnitude. 

There  are  many  other  placers  in  the  nei^libourliood  of  Ouebec  which,  if  not  such 
exact  types  of  the  past  nor  so  varied  in  natural  fi-alures  as  is  the  Cdte  de  Beaupre, 
yet  afford  beauty  of   sciMier)',   historic  associ.ition,  and  opportunitv   to    stud)'    the    life    of 


'll  s 


It-i 


88 


QUEBEC. 


mi 


the  people.  It  is  lianl  to  clioosc  l)ut  a  few  slioiild  he  visited,  and  among  tliese  Point 
Levis  stands  first  in  geograpliical  order  ami   in  interc'st  of    all  kinds. 

Landing  at  Indian  Cove,  where  the  descendants  of  those  Iroquois,  who  got  from 
the  EngHsh  (.iovernment  so  much  a-picce  for  every  I'Vt'ncli  scalp,  used  to  i)i,ilil  their 
wigwams,  to  avait  the  ilis^ribution  of  the  annual  l)ouiUy,  one  linds  a  splendid  graving 
dock  heing  built  on  the  very  spot  where  they  hauled  up  their  liark  canoes.  'i'he  clif? 
is  a  worlhv  mate  for  Cape  Diamoml.  l-'rom  its  tree-lined  summit  rolling  liills  covered 
with  h(  u.ses,  fields  and  woods,  so  that  the  country  looks  like  an  immense  park,  stretch 
back  to  the  sky-line,  in  pleasant  contrast  witii  the  abrupt  outline  of  the  other  shore. 
The  main  street  lies  between  the  river  and  the  jagged  face  of  the  rock.  At  each  end 
it  climl)s  the  cliff  in  zigzags,  between  okl  houses  whose  fantastic  shapes,  peaked  roofs 
and  heavy  balconies  make  thi;  place  seem  like  some  old  N'orman  town.  .At  one  [)oint 
whert?  a  spring  trickles  ilown  the  cliff,  a  wooden  stairv.ay  leads  from  \.\\v.  lower  to  the 
upper  town.  Close  1)\  stand  the  old  aiul  new  churches  of  .St.  Joseph,  the  latter  a  huge 
stone  building  of  the  usucl  type,  the  former  a  rude  little  cha|)ei,  vith  an  image  of  the 
saint  in  a  niche  over  th<^  door.  iucr)  wlu;re  there  is,  as  in  Ouebec,  this  meeting  of 
the  old  and  the  new.  ihe  Intercolonial  Railway  trains  shake  the  foundations  of  the 
old  houses,  and  inli'rrupt,  with  their  shrill  whistle,  the  chant  nf  the  hoys  at  vespers  in 
the  College  chapel.  I  ugs  puff  noisil\  along  with  big  ships,  whert;  Wolfe's  llotilla  stole 
so  silenth-  under  the  cliffs  the  night  before  the  batth,'  on  the  Plains  of  Abraham,  and 
barges  of  the  same  pattern  as  those  in  which  his  soldiers  crossed  lie  sidt-  b)-  side 
with  .\llan  sleamshipr-.  Hack  of  the  heights  from  which  his  batteries  jiounded  (hu^bec 
into  ruins,  ami  where  Montgomery's  men,  wasted  with  their  winter  march  through  the 
wilds,  waited  for  strength  to  carry  out  their  daring  alt.ick,  three  modern  forts  dominate 
the  South  Channel  ami  the  land  approaches.  Planned  with  ;ill  the  skill  of  tlu!  Ro\al 
Engineers,  their  casemates  are  meant  for  guns  beside  which  the  cannon  that  last  ilid  their 
work  here  would  look  like  pop-guns.  The  view  from  them  is  superb.  On  the  east  a 
rolling  plateau,  densely  wooded,  stretches  to  the  distant  mountains  of  Maine.  Opposite 
stands  Ouebec,  the  lower  town  in  dee])  shadow  beneath  tlu!  clilf,  the  upper  town 
glistening  in  the  sun.  L'p  and  down  the  river  the  eye  can  roam  from  Cap  Rouge 
to  Oo.sse  Isle,  and  never  weary  of  the  colo.ssal  extent  of  mountain,  river  ami 
forest. 

The  forts  are  in  charge  of  the  battery  of  Canadian  artillery  stationed  at  Quebec. 
Many  of  the  men  are  French-Canadians,  and  e.xcellent  soldiers  they  make.  In  cheerful 
submission  to  discipline,  resjjcct  for  their  officers,  and  intelligence,  the  hrench  militia 
corps  are  superior  to  the  English  in  the  rural  districts.  ;\mong  the  I'ield  .Artillery, 
the  most  technical  arm  of  the  .service. — so  much  so.  indeetl,  that  in  Englam.!  the  mili- 
t.iry  juithorities  have  not  yet  ventured  to  form  volunteer  batteries, — the  Quebec  Field 
Battery     composed    entirely    of    I'rench-Canadians,   is    a    model    of    e{pii|)ment,    drill    and 


r  i, 


\m 


FRENCH-CANAnLW  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER. 


89 


discipline,  and  is.  afu-r  a    few  days   of   annual   traininj;,  (luitc  undistinguishablc  from  the 
permanently-embodied  corps  in  the  Citadel. 

About  five  miles  to  the  northwest  of  Quebec  is  the  Indian  village  of  Lorette. 
Every  Ciiarter  for  the  settlement  of  La  Xouveile  France  repeats  in  substance  the 
words  of  that  granted  by  Richelieu  to  the  Company  of  the  One  Hundred  Associates, 
the  oi)ject  of  which  was  "to  endeavour  by  Divine  assistance  to  lead  tiie  people  therein 
lo  th(-  knowledge  of  the  true  (iod,  to  cause  them  to  bt;  disciplined  and  instructed  in 
the  Catiiolic,  Apostolic  and  Roman  faith."  In  fact  the  earlier  settlements  were  as 
professedly  missions  as  trading  enterprises.  The  idea  of  a  regular  colony  on  a  large 
scale  did  not  take  shape  till  the  time  of  Louis  XIV.,  under  whom,  as  his  hereditarv 
title  of  Most  Christian  Majesty  ilemaniled,  the  interests  of  religion  were  by  no  means 
a  secondary  consideration.  The  Ihu-onswere  the  first  fruits  of  missionary  devotion. 
In  1634  the  Jesuits  Hrebeuf,  l)anic;l,  and  Dauost,  took  up  the  work  begun  by  the 
Recollet  fathers,  \'iel  and  Le  Caron,  and  the  Jesuit  Sagard,  twelve  years  before. 
H\  1(550  tile  whole  nation  was  professedly  Christian.  The  descendants  of  these 
Ilurons,  only  a  few  hundreds  all  tolil,  are  (luile  civilized,  quiet,  orderly,  and  peace- 
able. Many  of  tiicm  are  well  etliicatctl.  comfortably  off  ami  lultivaling  good  farms. 
The  love  ol  the  forest  and  of  the  chase  is,  however,  too  tieep  in  their  natures  to 
be  totally  eradi(:Urd.  and  the  younger  men  are  fond  of  getting  away  to  the  wooils. 
\m\  never  fnul  an  Indian  ashamed  of  his  blood  ;  these  still  call  themselves  proudly 
I  he  Huron  Xalion,"  and  on  oMicial  occasions,  such  as  the  visit  of  a  Governor  or 
the  Indian  Commissioner,  their  chiefs  wear  full  Indian  costume.  .Among  them  are  a 
few  .\1.<  ii.ikis  and  other  nprcscitativcs  of  the  great  .Algonquin  famil\-,  lo  which  the 
Monlagnais  of  the  Lower  St.  Lawrence,  the  only  really  "wild  Indians'  of  Lower 
Canada,  al-,o  belong.  The  I'rencli  term  "  Sauvao^c,"  is .  much  more  expressive  than 
"  Indian."  but  seems  rather  a  misnomer  when  apjilied  to  some  of  the  fair-complexioned 
well-ilresseii  and  polished  inhabitants  of  Lorette,  among  whom  there  is  a  great  ad- 
mixture ol  white  blood.  They  do  a  large  business  in  all  sorts  of  embroidery,  in 
silk  and  porcuiiim-  (|uills  upon  birch-bark  ami  deer-skin,  make  snow-shoes  bead-work, 
moccasins,  and  other  curiosities.  The  old  church  is  shown  with  much  pride,  for  the 
Ilurons  are  good  Catholics.  The  school  is  another  of  their  sights.  The  childnm 
sing  wnli  a  vigour  suggestive  of  a  war-dance  rather  than  a  hymn,  but  their  bright, 
intelligent  faces,  and  the  musical  name  of  tin;  perform.ince.  reassure  one  as  to 
his  scali).  riiey  get  thorough  instruction,  and  are  apt  jjupils.  After  school  some 
of  them  are  always  ready  to  show  visitors  the  I-'alls.  for  a  branch  of  the  St.  Charles 
runs  through  the  village,  and  as  has  been  said  before,  wherever  there  is  a  sfeain  in 
ihis  country  there  an;  I'alls.  y\  paper-mill  intrudes  its  dam  upon  the  bed  of  the 
nver  at  their  head,  and  spoils  what  was  once  a  grand  sheet  of  water  covering  with 
a   crystal    curtain    the    now    bare   rock ;   but   a    sharp   turn   in  the  deep  gorge  soon  hitles 


;'!( 


90 


QUEBEC. 


V  i'l 


mm 


KM. l.S    OF    I.c  iKi,  I  I  l-„ 


J^Ri£A'c//-L\L\\in/.i.y  f.ii-ii  .\.\n  ciiaral  i i:r. 


9' 


tliis,  ami    the;    view    from    below    has    nolliino-   to   ilctracl    from   its    mingled   <,n-aiKlciir  and 
loveliness,   to  wliicli   words  cannot  do  justice. 


CAl'     kUUGE. 


I'oliowiiiL;    th(t    soutli    sliore    of    tlu;    St.     Lawrcnci;     from    I'oinl    Levis    all    the    way 
up     to     the    Chaudiere    the     same     magnificent     panorama     repeats    itself     with     subtle 


\ 


CAI'l-,     DlAMuM),     IKDM     sr.     KOMUAl.l). 


gradations    as    distance    softens    down    tlie    ilctails    of    the    l.mdseape    and     new  featun-s 
come    into    sisjlu.       .\t    St.     Koi"  '.dd    tlie    view    down    the    ri\t:r    is    \erv    grand.         The 


\^ 


92 


qvrbeC. 


Illlll 

lillij 


III 


II,  J  i 


bold  outline  of  Capt;  Diamond  stands  clear  cut  a<;ainst  the  sky.  Beyond  are  tli(' 
purple  peaks  that  close  in  on  the  St.  Charles,  and  the  misty  hills  that  surround  the 
headwaters  of  the  Montmorency  peep  through  the  pass  up  which  the  Charleshou.j; 
road  winds  to  Lake  Beauport.  To  the  ri,<,du  the  conical  mass  of  Mount  Sti-.  Anne 
towers  over  the  ridge  of  Levis.  Below  runs  the  river  dark  under  the  shadow  of  hanks 
seamed  with  leafy  coves,  but  losing  itself  in  the  sunshine  that  makes  fairyland  of  the 
Beauport  shore.  Lvery  place  in  sight  has  some  historic  or  traditional  association  to 
add  another  charm. 

I'  >m  St.  Romuald  it  is  not  far  to  the  Chaudiere  balls,  whose  abrupt  and  tremen- 
dous plunge  fully  juslilies  their  name.  There  are  many  Chaudiires  in  Canada,  the  term 
being  generic,  but  this  "  ChaKlron "  is  grand  and  tumultuous  enough  to  be  typical  of 
all,  and  to  name  the  whole  river.  It  and  the  Montmorency  b'alls  are  probably  but 
miniatures  of  the  unspeakably  magnificent  cataract  that  once  must  have  exisitxl  at  Cap 
Rouge,  that  grand  promontory  seven  miles  above  Quebec,  where  the  great  rock  cliffs 
close  in  and  confine  the  St.  Lawrence  into  riverdike  dimensions.  There  are  strong 
indications  that  the  river  must  once  have  been  dammed  up  here  behind  a  great  liarrier, 
over  which,  just  as  its  tributaries  now  find  their  way  into  it  over  the  surrounding 
plateau,  it  flowed  into  the  sea  in  a  flool  compared  with  which  Niagara  would  be  a 
driblet.  In  some  of  the  mighty  convulsions  that  heaved  the  Laurentian  rocks — the 
oldest  geological  formation  of  all— from  their  depths,  and  shaped  their  lowering  peaks, 
this  barrier  must  have  given  way  anil  the  stream  have  fallen  to  its  present  level. 

The  rich  red  rock  which  gives  it  its  name  and  the  bold  o\itline  of  its  cliff,  make 
Cap  Rouge  as  conspicuous  as  Cape  Diamond.  On  this  " promoiiloirc  liaiitc  ct  raided 
Jacques  Cartier  built  a  fort,  to  guard  his  ships  when  he  returned  to  Stadacona  on  his 
third  voyage,  in  1541,  and  Roberval  wintered  there  the  following  year,  rebuilding  Cartier's 
fort,  and  naming  it  "  France  Roy,"  in  honour  of  the  King.  The  beauty  of  the  forests 
that  crown  the  cliffs  and  the  fertility  of  the  soil  are  still  as  remarkable  as  when  Cartier 
•wrote  of  the  "  fort  bonnes  ct  belles  tcrres  pleines  d'anssi  beaux  et  piiissants  arbres  (/iie  I'on 
piiisse  voir  an  ntondc." 

Along  the  river  in  the  autumn,  wild  ducks  and  geese  appear  in  large  lunnbcrs,  while 
farther  back  partridges  and  wild  pigeons  are  abundant,  and  trout  can  alwaxs  be  hail  for 
the  catching.  Many  of  the  liabitans  are  very  skilful  with  rod  and  gun,  rivalling  the 
Indian  half-breeds — wiry,  long-haired,  black -visaged,  wild -looking  fellows,  who  make  a 
regular  business  of  shooting  and  fishing.  Down  the  (iulf  fish  is,  of  course,  the  great 
stand-by.  liels,  which  swarm  in  the  mouths  of  the  stn-ams,  are  speand  in  immense 
numbers.  They  are  a  favourite  dainty,  and  are  salted  for  winter  use,  as  are  also  great 
quantities  of  wild  fowl. 

These  peeps  at  the  country  about  Queljcc  might  be  prolongenl  indefinitely,  such  is 
the  number  of    charming  spots  to    be  reached    by  an  easy  drive.       But   al'    this    time  we 


h^REMC}I-CA NA DIA N  IJFF.    AND    CHARACTHR.  ' 


93 


i.Kiii  i-sini'   ON    riiK   sr.    i,.\\\ki-.nci;, 


have  been   looking-  at    tin;  habitant  in   a    lonj^-cultivated,   thickly-settled    region,  and  there 

is    another    phase    of    his    lile    which    can    only    be    seen    in    the    wikls.       A    journey    up 

the    St.    Maurice    sjjives    goixl    opportunity    for 

appreciating   it,  hut    to    get  to  the  St.    .Maurice 

one    must    go    to    Three    Rivers,    and     by    far 

the    best    way    of    doing    this    is    to    make    the 

night    voyage    up    the     St.     Lawrence     by    the 

Richelieu    Company's    steamer.       A    moonlight 

scene  on   the   St.    Lawrence  is  such  as  lo  lea\e 

a  deep  impression  of  tin;  majesty  of  the   great 

river   up    which    Cartit;r    toileil    for    a    fortnight 

to  reach   Stadacona,  far  bt'yond  which   he  heard 

there    was     "a    great    sc;a    of    fresh    water,    of 

which   then;    is    no  mention    lo    have    seen    the 

end."      The    wa)-    is    not    less    well    marked    in 

summer  than  in  winter.      Light-houses  stand  at 

every  bend,  while  buoys  and  light-ships,  moored 

in    mitlstream,   point    out    the    channel.      When 

night  has  closed  in,  the  twinkle  of  the  far  light 

is    rellected    across    the    water    for    miles,    broadening    out    at    last    into    brilliant    glare; 

beneath  one  gets  a  momcntar)-  glimpse  of    the  black  hull  and  sipiare    lowi-r    of    a    light- 


H.\i.F-i!Rri:i)   risrn:KMA.N. 


i\ 


S! 


94 


ocF.nr.c. 


sliip,  witli  wx'inl  sliadows  inoxinL;;  an'oss  the  cliccrfiil  l;1i'.iiii  Iroin  ihc  losy  cahiii.  Hiij;c 
black  masses  loom  up  siuklcnh  anil  .;li(lc  ])ast  in  silence.  I.oni^,  snake-like  monsters 
are  left  snorting;  astern.  A  j;rt)iip  ol  water  demons  sint;  in  wild  chorus  rouiul  a  lloat- 
ini;'  lilazt'.  .All  manner  of  strange  stars  flicker  low  down  on  ihe  hori/on,  chan^in^,''  their 
lines  with  sudden  llashes,  M\-er\  ihini;  is  dim,  shadow)'  and  weird,  till,  suddenly,  the 
moon  bursts  throuL;h  the  hca\\'  clouds,  shows  the  dull  outline  of  the  distant  ixuik, 
jjleams  white  on  the  canvas  of  a  passing  sh.ip,  reveals  the  Ion;;'  strinij  of  ileep-lailcMi 
bar^jes  following'  the  sohhiiij;-   tui^,  anil  dims    the  brightness  of  the  raftsmen's  fire. 

Three  Ri\(!rs  dates  far  back  in  the  history  of  brcnch  colonixation  in  Canada. 
On  oni'  of  the  islands  at  the  mouth  of  the  noble  iributar\'  which  here  enters  the 
St.  l.awrence,  Cartier,  in  i5,v|.,  planted  a  cross  in  the  name  of  the  KIiiil;"  ol  b' ranee. 
In  1599  PontL,n'a\e  t;a\e  it  the  name  of  Ri\iere  di-s  Trois  Ri\ieiH's  Irom  the  appearance 
which  two  of  the  islands  _L;i\e  it  of  beini^'  three  separate  sti'eams  ;  Cartier  had  christeiu'd 
it  Riviere  de  bOie,  from  tlu'  iSrelon  famiK  of  that  name.  Champlain  and  l'onlL;rave 
ascended  it  as  far  as  the  lirsl  rapids,  and  a  little  later  C'hamplain  made  tiie  mouth  of 
the  stream  a  rendez\ous  for  the  Ilurons  who  joined  him  in  his  cxpnlition  a<(ainst  the 
Iroquois,  the  river  beini;  the  hiLjhway  of  the  tribes  who  cami'  Irom  the  interior  to 
barter  furs  with  the  brench  traders,  haxinc^  i)een  dri\'en  awa\'  Irom  the  St.  Lawrence 
by  the  Iroipiois.  Traces  of  an  old  .\lL,n)n(|uin  stoikade  that  stood  where  the  up]jer  town 
is  now,  and  was  ck:stroyed  before  Chamjilain's  time,  were  found  when  the  boulevard 
faciny   the  St.    Lawrence  was  made.  . 

One  of  the  RecoUet  fathers  who  came  with  ("h.implain  in  1615,  celebrated  the 
first  mass.  Colonists  came  two  years  later,  ami  a  mission  was  founded.  In  1634 
a  rej^ailar  trading  depot  was  established,  as  I'onttrrave  had  proposed  to  do  long  before, 
when  Tadoussac  was  preferreil  b)-  his  superior  Chauvin.  lor  a  loni;  time  this  was  the 
extreme  outpost  of  the  French,  and  was  held  onl\  b\  exceeding;  xii^ilance  and  bravery, 
which  more  than  once  saved  Ouc^bec  from  immimiU  danger.  In  i()24  Chamiilain's 
diplomacy  brought  together  here  one  of  tin-  greatest  assemljlai^cs  of  Iiulians  ever 
known  upon  the  Continent,  and  secured  a  treat)  of  peace  between  1  lurons,  Algonquins, 
L'oquois,  anil  ]'"rench.  The  Mohawks  could  not  lonij^  resist  the  desire  to  use  their 
newl)-ac(iiiired  tire-arms  furnished  b)-  the  I  )uich  and  i".nL;lish,  and  then  followed  the 
blootly  scenes  which  eniled  only  with  tlie  arrisal  of  the  '.oul;  |)ra)t'd-for  troops  from 
France  in  1665.  The  Ilurons  atul  Al^onquins  were  almost  exterminated,  and  the 
French  were  sore  pressed.  This  was  the  heroic  aL;i'  of  the  colony  so  vitjorously 
described  by  I'arkman.  The  fur-tradeis  of  Three  Risers  bore  their  part  in  it  wt'll, 
and  when  there  was  no  more  tii^htinL;  to  do  their  venturi'some  spirits  foimd  outlet  in 
the  existiuLj  work  of  exploration,  for  with  the  establishment  o"  Montreal  the  im- 
portance of  Three  Risers  as  a  lradinL;-post  had  bei^un  to  decline,  and  the  necessity 
of    beiiiL;    farther    alield,    to    sa)'    nolhiuL;   of     ilu^     h.ilfwild     nature     of     the    (Oiirciirs  dc 


i 


/  A'AXc  // ( .i.\.i/'/.i.v  I.II-I-:  .\xn  cii.iRAc ri-K. 


95 


bois,  li'<l  tlicm  on.  '\W  missionaries  wliosc  oulposl,  in  liir  cnisaiir  aijainsl  Satan 
and  Ills  Indian  allies,  'I'lin'e  Rivers  also  was,  had  set  tluin  an  example.  jean 
Nicolet  li\ed  and  died  hi'ri;,  and  the  old  Chateau  of  tlu:  C"i(j\irnors,  in  which 
La    \  erciulraye    li\('il,    still    stands. 

Not    far    from    the    Chateau    is    the    orit^inal     parish    church,    the    oldest    in    Canada 


l.NTKKIOR     0|-     ^.\K1S11     CHL'KCH. 


except  the  one  at  Tadonssac.  It  has  the  oldest  n^cords.  for  those  of  Quebec  were 
burned  in  1640.  They  lie-in  on  I'"el)ruary  oth,  ifi'^s,  in  Pcre  Le  ji-unit's  handwriting, 
with  the  statement  th.it  \i.  de  1,1  Xioleite.  sent  t)\-  Champlain  to  fouml  a  luihitiilioti, 
lanileil  at  'i'hree    Ri\crs  on   July    (th.   M)^;.},  with  a   party  of  brench,   mostly  artizans,  and 


i 


96 


QUEBEC. 


comimncctl  tlu'  work;  llial  the  Jesuits  l.c  Jcmic  and  Hutcux  came  on  llii-  Stli  of 
Scptcnihcr,  to  be  with  tliem  for  tiic  salvation  of  tiicir  souls,  and  that  several  of  them 
died  of  scurvy  durini;  the  winter.  I'he  chaiiel  of  the  Jesuit  niissioTi  served  till  1664, 
when  a  wooden  church,   with    presbytery,   cemetery    and    garden,   was    built.      I'ifty    years 


ii 


CJl.l)     Lm.\l.\l',V     AND     CJI.VILAL. 


later  the  stnne  church  that  yet  .stands  on  a  corner  of  the  old  parochial  propi-rty  was 
erected  ;  it  is  an  interestini^  relic  of  a  by->^one  time,  and  its  hallowed  associations  make 
it  for  the  devout  Roman  Catholic  a  place  fr(jm  which  the  grantl  new  Cathedral  cannot 
draw  him. 

The    beauty    of    tlie    rich  oak    carvinjr   which    lines    the    whohr     interior    was    sadly 


FRENCH-CAN  API  A  \    I.I  II-:  ASP   CIIARACI  l:R 


97 


destroyiicl  by  a  spasm  of  cleanliness  on  the;  part  of  \\\v  authorities,  wlio  a  few 
years  ago  painted  it  white,  hut  fortunately  this  style  of  renovation  has  not  j^one 
farther,  and  the  old  paintinj^s  and  sculptun;,  of  which  there  is  a  profusion,  remain 
intact.      The  church  is  dedicated  to  the   Immaculate  Conception. 

The  ciiii'  and 
tile  111(1  ri;i(i///<rs 
form  the  fa- 
briquc,  or  admin- 
istrative boily  of 
the  corporation 
which  every  par- 
ish constitutes. 
The  airi''s  share 
in   leniporal    mai- 


lers   is,   however,     limited    lo    the 

presidency    of     all     meetings,    and 

in   this  as  well   as  in   the  kee|)ini,r 

of   registers    of    civil    status  he  is 

a  public  ol'ticer,   constrainalile  by 

vuvidannis  to  the  exercise   of   his 

duties.       He  appoints   the  choristers,    keeps  the    keys,    and    has    the    right    to    be    buried 

beneath    the    choir    of    the    church,    even    in     Ouebec    ami     Montreal,    where    interments 

within   the  city  limits  .ire  prohibited. 

TIk;  ])arishes  are  designated  in  the  first  jjlace  by  the  bishop,  and  are  then  civilly 
constitut(!d  by  the  I.ieutenaiit-('io\crnor  on  the  report  of  live  commissioners  under  the 
Great  Seal,  after  all  paities  ha\c  been  heard.  Being  corporations,  their  powers  are  de- 
fined,   and    exercise    of    tlK.'ui    regulated   by  the  civil    law.        The    revenues  are   raised   and 


liiii 


98 


QUEBIiC. 


•jxlniiinlinary  i^xpenscs  defrayt-d  h)'  asscssiiu'iu  aiiprovcd  In  ^M-iuTal  meetings.  The 
111. inner  in  wliicli  tlic  ciiics  arc  paid  varies  a  ^ood  deal.  Tliey  are  lej^allv  entitled  to 
a  titlie  in  kind,  of  oiu-  portion  in  twenty-six  on  .dl  j^'rain  thrown  in  tlie  parish  liy  Koni.u' 
Catholics,  except  ii|)on  lands  iiewK -cleared,  whiili  are  exempt  lor  tli<'  llrst  li\f  years.  The 
tithe  must  he  thrashed,  winnowed,  and  |int  in  the  |)ri<sl's  liarn.  In  many  parts  of  the 
I'rovinci!,  however,  what  is  known  as  the  siif>plciiutil  a  moiMy  |iaynieni  lakes  the  pl.ici' 
of,   or  is   combined   with,   the  tilhi'. 

The  St.  Maurice  l'"orjj;t's,  on  tlu'  rij;lit  h.uik  of  the  St.  Maurice  River,  ahoul  se\en 
miles  aliove  Three  Rivers,  are  the  oldest  smeltini;  furnaces  in  Canada,  and  dispute 
witii  tho>e  of  l'rinci|)io,  in  Maryland,  tlu'  rii,,du  to  be  considereil  the  oldest  in  .America. 
The  deposits  of  boL,M)re  Were  known  very  early  to  the  Jesuits.  In  i()().S  they  were 
examined  by  the  Sieur  l.i  rolardieii,  who  reported  iinfaNourably  to  the  Intendaiit  I'.ilon 
as  to  their  (|uanlily  and  (piality.  bronteiiai  and  1  )e  Denoinille  L;a\e  a  better  account 
of  them,  ami  it  seems  that  tests  were  mad<'  before  the  \c,u-  1700.  It  was  not  till  1737, 
however,  that  a  company  was  found  to  work  them.  This  comp.un  was  i^ranted  a  lar^'e 
tract,  includinj,'  the  site  where  the  <  )|d  bdii^cs  now  stand,  and  erected  furnaces,  but 
exhausted  its  capital,  and  in  174(5  had  to  surrender  its  charter.  The  (iovernmeiil  carried 
on  the  works  very  successfully,  as  a  report  of  the  Colonial  Inspector  rranipul  shows, 
and  must  have  extended  them,  as  apju^ars  by  the  I'rection  of  the  old  Chateau  that  stands 
on  a  tlat  blulY  overlooking;  the  river.  On  an  iron  plate  in  its  chimne>  are  the  otticial 
Jlciirs  iic  lis  and  the  dale  1752,  Its  walls,  some  two  ami  .1  half  feet  thick,  withstood  the 
tire   that  destrovcd   its  woodwork    in    1S63. 

,\  brook  llows  ihr(nii;h  the  ra\ine  immediately  below  the  Chateau.  It  furnished 
water-power  for  the  oldest  works,  remains  of  which  are  to  be  seen  near  its  mouth.  I  he 
attachments  of  an  old  shaft  show  that  a  trip-hammer  was  used,  and  there  are  other  sit;ns 
of  exttMisive  works  for  making  wrouj^ht  iron.  I'rom  J50  to  ;,oo  men  wire  emi)loyed, 
under  directors  who  had  rained  their  skill  in  Sweden.  Man\  of  the  articles  made  then — 
notablv  stoves-  still  attest  the  (p.iality  of  the  iron  and  of  thi'  work.  l'ii;s  and  bars  were 
sent  to  b' ranee.  Durini;  lh('  war,  shot  and  shell  were  cast.  When  lh<'  l'".ni;lish  came  to 
take  i)Ossession,  the  Ch;iteau  was  occupied  b\-  ,1  Demoiselle  I'oulin,  who  threw  the  keys 
into  the  river  r.ither  th.ui  yield  them.  Lej^^ends  of  mysterious  lights  and  buried  treasure 
clin<,r  to  the  jilace.  After  the  Concpiest  the  works  w<'re  leased  to  priv.ite  persons,  and 
have  jiassed  throuLrh  sc^veral  hands  before  comin_t,r  into  those  of  the  ]nesent  owners,  who 
use  most  of    the  product   in   the  manufacture  of    car-wheels  at   Three    Rivers. 

The  original  blast-furnace,  or  cupola — a  huge  block  of  granite  masonr\-,  thirty  feet 
square  at  the  base — is  still  used  for  smelting ;  the  the  has  rarely  been  extinguished, 
except  for  repairs,  during  the  past  150  years.  In  a  deep-arched  recess  is  the  "dam" 
from  which  the  molten  metal  is  drawn  into  beils  of  sand,  to  cool  into  pigs.  During  the 
time    between    "runs"    or    "casts,"  glowing    slag    is    continually    being    ilrawn    t)ff.      The 


FRF.NCIUA\  APIAN  I. Ill-:  AXP   < //. /A'. /r //: A'. 


99 


cupola  is  kfpt  lillfd  from  the  lop  witli  ore,  l)rok(n  limcsloni',  and  clianoal.  Tlif  latter 
is  madt;  in  imiiKMist;  kilns  n«'ar  the  furjrc,  from  wood  ftiriiishcd  in  al)imdaiii:i'  1)\  the  sur- 
rounding forests.  Aj,'ainst  the  volumes  of  white  vajiour  from  these  kilns  llie  old  iron- 
works staml  out,  ;,doom\-  ami  lilaek  with  the  smoke  and  ^rime  of  generations.  '{'he 
limestone  is  ohiained  a  short  distance  \\\t  the  ri\cr,  and  liie  ore  d.iik-red  spon^)  stuff, 
yielding  lorty  per  cent,  of  iron  -  is  hroiiglu  in  by  the  luibitaiis,  wlio  Imti  it  lictween  two 
beds  ol  sand  on  lanil  that  yielils  no  crops,  so  that  they  are  only  too  glad  to  ilig  it  up. 
The  works  are  surrounded  by  a  little  hamlet  of  workmen's  cottages.  .An  amphitlu'atrc 
of    wooiled   hills  siirrountls  the    scene.        I'hesi:    rise    gradually   to  th(;  left,   and  o\i-r  them 


Al.l.S    Of     WW.    cH.\UIiU;KK— NKAK    gUKHKC. 


is  seen  the  dark  outline  of  the  I.aurentian  range,  against  which  is  set  the  gleaming  spire 
of  .St.  luienne  Church.  TIk!  lesser  hills,  across  the  .St.  Maiu-icc  to  tin;  right,  are  topped 
by  Mount  Carmel,  and  far  up  the  stream  the  Shawenegan  Mountains  consort  with  tlu' 
Files  |)eaks. 

There  is,  perhaps,  nothing  in  Canada  that  more  forcibly  strikes  the  English  eye  than 
the  wikl  and  silent  grandeur  of  our  mighty  rivers.  Though  onl\  ranking  third  among 
the  tributaries  of  the  .St.  Lawrence,  the  St.  Maurice  is  a  noble  stream.  Huring  spring 
and  early  summer  it  becomes  a  raging  flood  fed'  bv  the  melting  snow  antl  rains  of  tin- 
great  iiorthctrn  water-shed,  and  even  when  the  parching  heat  of  summer  has  drii-il  up  its 
sources   it  remains  a  navigable  stream   nearly  a  cjuarter  of  a  mile  wide  far  above  its  mouth. 


toe 


Qi  r.nrc. 


/'K/-:nch-cAi\.u>/.i\  i.iir.  and  (  iiikal  ti-ir. 


lOI 


I'ai  lo  llic  north,  .'20  milts  froiu  tlir  St,  l..i\\i(  luc,  tliis  river  risis  in  a  net-work 
of  lakes  ami  sinali  water-toiirses,  whicii  fcrd  also  its  elder  hrotliers,  the  ( )ttavva  and 
iht:    Sayuenay.       It    pursues    its    tortuous    way    in   a    main    direiiion   nearly  south,    while 


lUvAD   oi'   sh.\\vi;ni;(;.\n    taixs. 


the  otliers  divcri^e  so  widely  to  the  west  and  east  tiiat  their  several  (iclnmchcmaits  into 
the  St.  Lawrence  are  divided  i)y  a  space  of  more  than  three  hunilreti  miles.  All  the 
upper  part  of  the  St.  Maurice's  traverses  are  unbroken  wil(l(Tness,  untrodden  I)\-  the  foot 
of  man,  except  the  few  Indians  and  trapjx'rs  who  yet  represent  the  al)oriL;inal  occupants, 
the  liudson's  \\a\  voya incurs  and  traders  who  still  use  this  route  as  a  means  of  access  to 
their  remoter  posts,  and  the  lumlxrers  whose  cami)s  and  shanties  have  been  already 
pushed  two  hundred  miles  back  into  the  interior,  and  the  rinu,'-  of  whose  axes  is  heard 
.at   the   head  of  (-very  stream   ilowii   which   a  saw-loi;  can   be   lloated   in   the  freshets  of  the 


I02 


Q(i:iu:c 


I    W 


r 


t\i;l 


'Hi: 


Siirin;^.  Nothing  can  In-  inon;  Invdy  tliaii  tin;  constantly  varied  and  unexpected  beauty 
of  the  re.iclies  of  ii\er,  lake  anil  stream,  the.  water-falls,  rapiils,  wild  rocks,  densely-wooded 
hills  anil  forest  ylades  with  which   this  wild  rej^ion  is  tilled. 

(  )ne  hiuulred  miles  from  its  mouth  the  ri\er  meets  ci\  ili/ation  at  the  foot  of  the 
wild  ''ahs  of  t'e  "  lu(|ue"  (^so  calleil  from  the  fancied  rrseiiiMance  of  a  hill  in  the 
vicinity  to   the   I'rench-Canadian   head-j;ear  of  that   name),  in  the  form  of  a  '.'earner  which 

traverses  a  stretch  of  si.\t\-  miles  to  the 
"  Piles, "  whence  a  railway  to  tiie  front  j^ives 
the  ^o-hy  to  the  formidabli:  luit  pictunsiiui- 
rajjids  and  falls  of  the  Lower  St.  Maurice. 
The  lirst  of  these  is  the  Cirais,  so-called 
hecause  the  okl  portage  led  across  yranite 
rocks  now  occupied  hy  a  saw-mill  and 
all  its  unlo\ely  litter  of  lumher,  saw- 
dust and  slalis.  Here  the  ri\cr 
clashes  itself  o\er  and  thi-ouL;h 
enormous  rocks,  which  cause  twin 
falls  and  a  hoilinij  rapid.  .\ 
few  e\-erj;ri'ens  cliuLj  to  the 
rocks,  and  a  low  hench  supports 
a  scant  growth  of  hushes,  but 
above  the  river  the  tree-clad 
ht'iglUs  rise  in  successive  sieps. 
The  unlimited  water-power 
has  caused  tlle  place  to  be  se- 
lected as  the  heailipiarters  of 
one  ot  the  \ast  lumberinjj  estab- 
lishments whose  chiefs  are  kini^s 
in  all  but  name.  The  jtroprietor 
of  this  establishment  is  |)iactically 
kinjr  of  the  .Si.  Maurice.  The 
farmers,  who  compose  the  scant 
population  of  the  neiijhbourhood, 
are  di'pendent  upon  him  for  a 
ma.kei  and  for  sup|)lies  of  all 
they  need  from  the  outside  world.  Their  cro|is  are  consumeil  by  his  horses  and  men, 
and  their  sons  and  brothers  tiiul  emplosinent  in  liis  service.  The  villatje  about  the  mill 
is  his  property  ;md  the  inhabit.mts  ,ire  his  servants.  Hundreds  of  men  and  horses, 
under  the  direction    of   scores    of  foremen,  labour  for   him    through    sunuuer  ,uid   winter, 


UTTI.1-:    sii,\wi:m;(;..'lN. 


FRENCH-CANAPIAN  L/FI-   AND   CHARACTER. 


103 


imdcrgoiiig  i\\v.  scverL-st  toil  and  perilling  tht-ir  lives  to  caiT\'  out  his  heiiests.  His 
will  is  their  law,  his  wages  are  their  subsistence,  and  ])r(>ni()ti()n  in  his  s(;rviix;  is 
their  reward.  livery  foreman  is  chosen  from  the  r;;nks  of  this  great  family.  Should 
one  of  them  take  service  with  a  ri\al  house,  he  can  never  return  to  his  allegiance, 
(ireat  (|iialities  of  leadt."shi|)  an-  required  for  success  in  tlu'se  \ast  enterprises,  hut  if  the 
ruK-  of    the  luniher  king  is  tlespotic,  it   is  also  patriarchal  and    Ixnelicent. 

l'"or  some  distance  above  the  (irais  settlements  continue  on  both  sides  of  the  river, 
but  the  stream  itself  is  generally  flanked  by  forest.  High  hills  ris(,>  abrupt!)  from  its 
etlge,  and  the.  land  is  a  succession  of  well-defined  benches.  (iood  soil  is  found  in  the 
inti^rvales  of  the  tributaries,  but  some  distance  from  the  main  rivir  which  in  its  course 
through  the  mountains  forms  many  rapitls  and  falls.  The  grandest  of  these  are  tlu' 
Shaweiiegan  l'"alls,  twent\-foui  miles  from  Three  Rivers.  The  ri\-er  is  narrowed  iielween 
two  projecting  ])oints,  and  di\ided  i)y  a  rock)'  island  into  two  channels  ol  e(pial  \olume. 
The  twin  si  reams  roll  pl.uidly  for  a  while.  .SuddeiiK'  a  swift  rush  begins,  and  tluir 
lawny  water  breaks  into  tossing  foam.  I  he  rir'  I  branch  comes  down  with  more  direct 
course,  dashed  into  white  masses  that  rise,  like  fountains,  ijcrpendicularl)-  into  llu'  air, 
and  scatter  their  glittering  beails  of  spr.iy  in  wild  profusion.  The  left  branch  sweeps 
round  the  island,  and  far  up  the  narrow  chamiel  its  stream  can  be  seen,  now  rcllecting 
the  banks  like  a  mirror  and  now  tumbling  over  steps  of  sheh  ing  rock  which  st.uul  darkly 
out  of  the  variously-bt  oken  and  lighted  water.  The  pla\'  of  colour  from  seal-brown  to 
shining  white  is  magnilicenl,  ,ind  doubtless  suggested  the  Indian  name  .Shawenegan,  or 
needlework,  the  "(li\crs  colours  of  needlework  tinel\'  wrought."  ihe  Kit  iail  cur\cs  till 
at  right  angles  to  the  other,  when,  meeting,  the\-  press  upon  and  past  a  rocky  point 
which  stands  out  full  against  their  united  force  wlu'ii  the  watei-  is  low,  but  is  swept  by 
th(!  S[)ring  floods.  Recoiling  from  its  impetuous  leaps  against  its  adamantine  barriers, 
the  torri'Ut  sweeps  down  another  long  incline  between  w.ills  of  rock  into  a  ca|iacious 
bay,  whose  surface  heaves  as  if  with  the  panting  of    the  water  resting  after  its  mad  rush. 

Into  this  ba\'  ent<rs  the  .Shaweneg.in  River,  easily  ascended  by  canoe,  tirst  through 
elm  glades  .and  ^(►L',.li^ials,  ,ui<l  then  by  sinuous  turns  between  steep  banks  cosered  with 
spruce  aniid^d^i^^^^^^llle  .Shawenegan  l'"alls  burst     n   the  view  in  e.\(|uisite   loveliness. 

In  the  (|tn'eter  stretches  of  the  St.  .Maiu-ice  thc-e  are  many  islands.  These  and  the 
banks  of  the  stream  are  beautifully  wooiled  even  up  difticult  steeps,  rising  far  above  the 
water's  edge,  b'very  here  and  there  a  mountain  wall  sh.idovvs  the  river,  and  breaks  the 
forest  greens  with  thi^  |)uri)le  and  golden  glories  of  the  shrubs  that  alone  can  lind  hold 
upon  its  rugged  face.  Deep,  gloomy  gorges,  through  which  come  glimpses  of  a  world 
of  hills,  mark  the  entrances  of  tributary  streams.  The  grandeur  and  lovelini'ss  intensities 
the  mysterious  solitude  of  the  wilderness.  Such  is  the  country  to  which  nearly  three 
hundred  years  ago  the  habitant  lirst  came. 


M  1 


Hi 


1 


J'l' 


t^n 


A     Gl.lMl'SI-:    IKOM    nil,    .M(JLNIAIN 

MONTREAL 

'T^HHRli   is    no   more  bi-aii 
■^      tiful  city  on  the  contineiu 
of  America  tiian   the    commer- 
cial metropolis  of  the  Dominion  of  Canada.      Tlu;  j,;eographical  features  of   the    place  at 
once    suijijest    a    city.      Ocean-;.4oing    steamers    can    navigate  tiic    river    .St.     Lawrence    no 
farther  inland,   hut  iicr(',   when'   insiiperahlc!    difHiculties  stop   iia\i,i.,fation,   nature  has    made 

it    possihh;    for    iiuman    skill    to    produce    a    magnificent    harbour.       I-\inL;    h'tween     the 
104 


MONTR  HAL. 


105 


river  and  Mount  Royal,  rarely  has  it  been  the  good  fortune  of 
any  city  to   have  so  fine  a  background.     The  llat  part,  situated 
at    the    base   by    the    river   side,  makes    it   easy    for   business ; 
sloping  sides  of   the  mountain   are    intended,   perliaps,   to 
meet  the  modern   idea   that   prosperity 
shall    build   in   the  west   end,   and 
abundance  in  some  overlook- 
ing heigiits.     Tiiat  which  was 
natural     happened ;      the 
city    has    extended    west- 
waril    and    along 


the  mountain  side 
— that    is    to    say, 
wealth  used  its  un- 
doubted   right    to 
erect  its  dwelling- 
places  up  tile  river 
where     the    water 
is  clear,   and   \\\<  tlie  moun- 
tain where  the  air  is   pure. 
Reaching    the    city    by 
way   of    the    St.    Lawrence, 
the  e\'e  rests  upon   a  scene 
of  rare  i)caul\- ;  three  miles 
of     river     frontage     turned 
into  wharvt's ;    shipping   of 
every  kind  and  description, 
from    the  enormous    steam- 
ship   to    th.e    tiny    pleasure 
yacht ;    back   of  that,    long 
lines  of    warehouses ;    then, 
great  public  and  private  buildings,  church 
spires    and    towers    asserting    their   right 
to  be    higher  tiian    all    otlier    structures, 
and    thus    lud    the   l)us\-   world    pause   at 
times  and  look  U[).       Hul    tiie    finest    view  of    the    cit)'  can    be   had   from    the    mountain. 


■■ 


i 
It 


m 


io6 


Qunnnc. 


1 


The  t<)|)  is  reaclu'd  by  a  windinjj  path  or,  if  th(>  traveller  choose,  by  steps  suggestive 
of  lungs  and  nerves,  and  a  swimming  head  and  death  by  falling.  The  view  from  the 
summit,  however,  i^^  well  worth  the  climb,  whichever  way  may  be  chosen.  The  city 
lies  at  the  base;  th  majestic  St.  Lawrence  may  be  traced  for  miles.  Just  opposite  it 
is  spanned  by  the  great  Victoria  Bridge,  one  mile  and  three-epiarters  long,  built  by 
Stephenson  and  Brunei,  and  opened  by  the  Prince  of  Wales  in  iS6i.  Beyond  the 
river  is  a  vast  stretch  ''  land  absolutely  tlat,  bounded  by  ranges  of  hills  among  which, 
conspicuous,   rise  the  twin   moimtains  of    St.    Hilaire. 

Montreal  aboiuuls  with  striking  contrasts.  The  city  is  comparatively  small — 
less  than  one  luuulred  and  fifty  thousand  inhabiianls  -  as  what  was  called  "the  census" 
has  declared.  It  has  had  only  one  or  two  hundred  years  of  history;  and  yet  every- 
thing is  here — the  antiepie  and  the  niodern — while  hostile  oddities  lie  cheek-by-jowl 
on  every  hand.  Here  are  frame  houses,  some  of  them  scarcely  l^etter  than  an 
Irishman's  hovel  on  his  native  bog,  and  ignorance  and  squalour  and  dirt ;  close  at 
hantl  are  great  streets  of  great  houses,  all  of  tine-cut  stone.  Here  are  thousands  of 
I""rench  wlio  cannot  speak  one  word  of  Mnglish,  ami  ihousaiuls  of  English  who  cannot 
speak  one  word  of  b'riMich.  LInthrift  and  thrift  come  along  the  same  thoroughfares. 
Some  are  content  with  a  ban;  existence  and  some  are  not  content  with  colossal  for- 
tunes. In  social  life  we  have  the  old  Trench  families  with  their  Old  World  rctinement 
pressed  upon  and  jilmost  pushed  out  of  e.xistt.-nce  by  the  loud  maniu'rs  of  the  iiouvcaux 
riches.  The  older  houses  hav(!  their  heirlooms  of  gold  trinkets  and  siKcr  plate ;  the 
new  houses  have  their  art  galleric-s  of  elaborate  picture-frames,  the  meani'st  ol  which 
would   honour  Cellini,  and  gladdcm   the   eyes  and    heart  of  a  solid   Manchester   man. 

We  have  the  same  striking  contrasts  in  the  appearance  of  the  pc'ople  on  the  streets. 
Here  are  unmistakable  descendants  of  the  ancient  Iroquois  Imlians  ;  at  a  turn  we  come 
upon  a  compan\-  wiio,  by  their  dress  and  talk,  take  us  back  to  the  peasant  classes  of 
older  I'Vance  ;  while  crowding  everywlu-re  are  lailies  and  gentlemen  of  the  most  approved 
modern  t\pe,  according  to  the  fashions  of  London,  Paris,  and  New  ^'()rk.  The 
business  of  the  place  shows  thi;  same  quaint  differences.  At  one  market  we  are  in 
an  e.xclusively  agricultural  district ;  there  is  nothing  to  suggest  a  ship,  a  warehouse,  or  a 
factory  ;  buyers  and  sellers  are  country  people  with  country  ways,  except  that  now  and 
then  a  lady  from  the  more  aristocratic  parts  ventures  to  go  a-marketing  in  the  interests 
of  economy.  Our  illustration  represents  what  may  be  seen  in  one  of  the  i)rincipal 
squares  of  the  city  on  a  market  day.  All  the  streets  rountl  the  Bonsccours  Market 
are  cnjwded  with  carts  filled  with  country  produce,  and  tlu:  oxcrllow  tuuls  its 
way  into  Jacques  Cartier  Scpiare.  The  horses  feeding  peacefully  as  tlu;y  would 
beside  a  country  hosiclr\-,  primitive  carts  ;uid  hai-ness,  the  hahitant  |)iously  com- 
mitting his  horse  or  his  basket  to  the  care  of  Goil  while  he  slips  into  the  old 
church    to   sa)     a  prajer,   are    not    the    pictures    one    expects    to    lind    in    a    great    city 


MONTREAL 


lojr 


COMMISSIONKKS    VVIIAUr,    ANU    UONSIXOURS 

.MAKivi;r. 


in  the  restless  New  World.  A 
very  little  \va\'  to  the  west,  \()u 
are  in  a  different  latitude.  Siyns  of 
commerce  antl  modern  taste  and 
industrial  life  abound.  Here  is  a 
corner  where  we  look  into  \  icloria 
S(|uare.  The  crouiled  streets,  the 
magnificent  cut-stone  siiops,  hotels 
and  warehouses,  the  well-aiJpointed 
hall  and  rooms  of  the  ^'l)un<;" 
Men's  Christian  Association  --  the 
oldest  Association  of  the  kind  in 
America,— the  beautiful  Kirk.  .Sal- 
ishurv  Cathedral  in  miniature,  the 
bronze  statue  of  the  Queen  by 
Marshall  Wood,  all  reflect  the  nine- 
teenth century.  What  surprises  the 
visitor  is  the  sharp  distinction  so 
lonix  maintained.  The  new  does 
not  shoulder  the  ancient  out  of  the  way-does  not  even  modify  it.  They  move  alon.i.;- 
parallel    lines,    neither   affectint,'    the  other.       There    is    no    fusion    of    races    in    cominer- 


BONSF.mURS    CHURCH. 


I 


'i  I 


loS 


Qvr.nr.c. 


'■  ;  ■  i  A 


■Nl' 

1        ■   IB. 


'• '■''  ''     — ^ < 

^^'  y^_.^"^^'l  j   l^'*^' 

[l 

i     ^  '■  « 

;^.-- "1 

,/ 

■  4.    \ 

JHKO 

m  '^t'U 

m 

M 


a 
u 


MONTREAL. 


109 


cial.    social    or    political    Mfc;    tlu' 

dillcrcncc'^    arc     sliarph-     il(-linc(l, 

anil     apiicar     to     he     pcriiiaiuiit. 

It    \w\v-    be    confesscii     that     this 

atkls      to      the     interest      of     the 

city,     and     mahlcs     the      curious 

to    stud\-    human     life    and    work 

under    a     variety    of     asi)octs.        But    \vc     must    turn     now     to    a    closer    description    of 

people    and     places    anil     tlieir    history. 

The  history  of  Montreal  is  an  eventful  one,  and  full  of  interest.  The  site  was  first 
visited  by  Jacques  ("artier,  the  discoverer  of  Canaila,  on  the  jd  October,  15^^-  I  he 
Alj:^on(]uin  village  of  twelve  hundred  inhabitants  was  then  named  llochela^a,  and  the 
Frenchman   was  well   rece-ived,   supplies  of  fish  and   mai/e    biiiiL^    freely    offered    in   return 


/ 


f 


I 


i 


i^ 


I'll! 


1  lO 


QUKliF.C. 


for  beads,  knives,  small  mirrors  and  crucifixos.  Hochela^a  was,  (.-viii  in  those  days,  a 
centre  of  importance,  having  eij^ht  or  ten  settlements  subject  to  it.  Nothing  more  was 
heard  of  it,  however,  till  1611,  when  Chainplain  left  Quebec  for  I  lochelaga,  with  the 
interition  of  establishing  there  a  trading-station.  Temporary  structures  were  erected, 
ground  was  cleared  and  seeds  were  sown,  in  order  to  tt;st  the  fertility  of  the  soil. 
Before  returning  to  Quebec,  Champlain  held  ronfercnrcs  with  many  liulians — Hurons  antl 
Algonquins — whv'  had  come  to  meet  him  in  tlu!  ncighbourliood  of  tlic  |ii(seiu  L.-ichine 
Rajjids.  Two  years  later,  Champlain  visited  Hochelaga  ai;ain,  and  pushed  forward 
up  the  river  Ottawa  as  far  as  Lake  Nipissing.  It  was  not,  however,  till  1640 
that  a  permanent  establishment  was  attempted  on  tlie  island  of  Montreal.  In  that  year 
a  society,  designated  "  La  Compagnie  de  Montreal,"  was  formctl  in  Paris  for  the 
promotion  of  religion  in  the  colony.  This  Company  consisteil  of  about  thirty  persons 
of  wealth,  who  proposed  to  build  a  regular  town  and  [irotect  it  against  the  Indians  by 
means  of  fortifications.  Maisonneuve,  a  distinguished  and  pious  soldier  from  Cb.im- 
pagne,  was  chosen  to  lead  the  expedition  and  direct  the  Company.  The  sanction  of 
the  King  of  France  ha\ing  been  obtained,  priests  ami  families  were  sent  out,  and  on 
the  17th  of  Ma)-,  1642,  X'illemarie  was  solemnly  consecrated.  The  spot  chosen  for  the 
ceremony  was  near  the  foot  of  the  mountain. 

Maisonneuve  was  a  great  man,  knightly  in  bearing,  brave  as  a  lion  and  devout  as 
a  monk.  Among  his  most  efficient  colleagues  was  d'Aillebout,  who  was  subse{[ueiui\ 
twice  Governor  of  New  France.  During  the  first  few  years  the  colony  of  X'illemarie 
barely  managed  to  subsist,  being  constantly  exposed  to  the  incursions  of  Intlians.  On 
one  occasion,  in  1652,  a  small  band  of  I'^renchmen  defeated  a  body  of  two  Ivnulred 
Iroquois  in  tiie  immediate  neighbourhood  of  Montrt.'al.  Tiie  following  \ear  Maisonneuve 
returned  from  I'Vance  with  three  vessels  aiul  upwards  of  a  hundred  soldiers.  In  1663, 
an  important  event  occurrtxl,  the  "  Compan\-  of  Montreal"  ha\ing  sold  tiicir  rights  to 
the  Seminary  of  Montreal,  who  have  ever  since  been  the  seigniors  of  the  island  and 
associated  with  every  incident  of  its  history.  In  1672  the  po|)ulati<)n  of  Montreal  had 
reached  the  figure  of  1500,  and  a  few  years  later  tlu:  place  be^gan  to  be  laid  out  into 
streets  within  a  quadrangular  space  surrounded  by  a  wall.  About  the  same  lime  the 
village  of  Laprairie,  on  th(-  opposite  side  of  the  ri\er,  was  founded  iiy  a  number  of 
converted  Iroquois,  and  later  the\-  migrated  a  little  farther  up  tcj  Caughnawaga,  where 
their  descendants  survive  to  this  day. 

The  Iroquois  were  the  allies  of  the  English  of  the  New  England  Colonies  and  the 
Dutch  on  the  Hudson,  as  the  Hurons  were  of  the  I'nnch  of  Canada;  and  the  wars 
between  these  two  savage  nations  naturally  involved  tiieir  white  friends.  In  1690  an 
expedition,  consisting  of  two  hundred  I'Vench  and  Indians,  set  out  from  Montreal  on 
snow-shoes,  and  fell  upon  a  Dutch  settlement  at  Schenectady,  putting  all  therein  to 
fire  and  sword.     In  retaliation,  a  force  of  thirteen  hundred  men,  under  General  Winthrop 


MONTREAL. 


Ill 


and  Major  Schuyler,  was  pqiiipped  for  a  movement  npon  Montreal,  by  the  way  of  Lake 
Champlain,  while  a  (Icet  was  dispatch<;cl  ajjainst  Quebec  under  the  command  of  Si;- 
William  l'hii)|)s.  The  former  accomplished  nothing,  owing  to  the  difficulties  of  the 
march,  aiul  were  easily  rei)ulsed  ;  while  the  defeat  of  the  latter  by  Fronlenac  is  one  of 
the  most  brilliant  pajjes  of  the  history  of  New  France.  In  1700-01  a  great  peace  was 
concluded  at  Montreal  between  the  Iroquois  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  Hurons,  Ottawas, 
Abnakis,  and  Algonquins  on  the  other.  This  did  not  prevent  works  of  defence  being 
carried  on,  and  in  1722  a  low  stone  wall  was  erected,  with  bastions  and  outlets,  extending 
all  around  the  town.  The  populption  of  Montreal  at  that  time  was  three  thousand. 
The  fortilications,  however,  were  available  only  against  the  Indians,  and  were  not  calcu- 
lated to  withstand  artillery,  as  the  events  of  fifty  years  later  clearly  proved.  In  1760, 
after  the  fall  of  Quebec  and  the  unsuccessful  attempt  of  Levis  to  recover  that  strong- 
hold, Montreal  became  the  last  station  of  French  power  in  America,  and  it  is  therefore 
indissolubly  connected  with  the  closing  events  of  the  Conquest.  The  liritish  plan  of 
campaign  was  to  hem  Montreal  in  from  every  side.  With  that  view.  General  Murray 
moved  up  from  Quebec,  while  Colonel  Maviland  advanced  his  army,  composed  of  three 
thousand  regulars  and  provincials,  with  a  small  body  of  Indians,  from  Crown  Point  on 
Lake  Cham]jlain.  and  u|)  the  Richelieu.  On  his  side  .Sir  Jeffrey  Amherst,  the  Com- 
mander-in-Chief, set  out  from  Albany  and  passed  through  the  Iroquois  country,  now  the 
State  of  New  York,  as  far  as  Oswego,  where  he  took  boats  to  transport  his  men  across 
the  lower  part  of  Lake  Ontario  and  down  the  .St.  Lawrence.  When  he  reached  Lachine, 
Haviland  had  already  occupied  the  south  shore  of  the  river  opposite  the  city,  and  Murray 
was  master  of  tlu;  tiMTilory  extending  to  the  foot  of  the  island.  Levis  had  fired  his 
last  musket,  X'audreuil  had  exhausted  all  his  diplomacy,  and  there  only  remained  to  be 
enacted  the  final  scene  of  Capitulation  whereby  the  fairest  colony  of  l'"rance  was  trans- 
ferred to  Great  Britain.  It  has  ne\er  been  definitely  ascertained  at  what  particular  spot 
this  impressive  historical  event  took  place.  Most  historians  locate  it  at  the  Chateau  de 
Ramezay,  on  Notre  Dame  Street,  the  official  residence  of  Marquis  de  Vaudreuil, 
Governor  and  Lieutenant-General.  There  is  a  local  trailition,  however,  that  the  Articles 
of  Surrender  were  signeil  in  a  small  frame  house,  on  the  Cote  des  Neiges  road,  behind 
tin  mountain,  which  was  unfortunately  destroyed  by  fire  only  a  few  years  ago.  It  is  not 
necessary  to  trace  the  general  history  of  the  city  from  this  point  of  the  Conquest  down 
to  our  day.  It  will  suffice  to  say  that  from  1760  to  1810,  Montreal  was  little  better 
than  a  frontier  outpost,  and  an  emporium  of  the  trade  of  peltries  with  the  Indians. 
In  the  succeeding  decade,  the  North-West  was  explored  by  a  number  of  hardy  adven- 
turers— the  Selkirks,  MacTavishes  and  others  penetrated  into  the  wilderness  ;  the  North- 
West  Company  multiplied  its  stations  throughout  the  Red  River  valley,  and  Montreal 
became  the  heaiUpiarters  of  all  these  mighty  traders.  There  are  episodes  in  this  period 
of  the  history  of  Montreal,  up  to   1830,  which  have  the  charm  of  romance,  reminding  one 


I 


;i  t 


M 


11 


i  I' 


IW 


IIS 


QUKfiEC. 


of  its  ancient  days.  The  famous  voyai^eurs  and  (oureurs  de  hois  are  indissoliibly  asso- 
ciated with  the  city.  Ail  the  canoes  that  went  up  the  Ottawa,  thence  to  Frencli  Kivcr 
and  Georgian  Hay,  to  Lake  .Sii[H;rior  and  on  throujjh  innumerable  portajjes,  to  Lake 
ol  the  Woods  and  the  Winnipeg  River  and  Lake  to  Fort  (larry,  set  out  from  the  village 
of  Lachine,  it  is  true,  but  they  were  all  hulen  with  Montreal  freight  and  propelled  by 
the  stalwart  arms  of  Montreal  oarsmen.  Then  came  the  great  development  of  the 
lumber  trade,  which  gave  additional  importance  to  Montreal  and  incre.ised  its  wealth. 
This  trado  brought  the  whole  ba(  V  country  of  the  Upper  Ottawa  into  commercial  union 
with  the  city,  and  tiu'  prolitable  connection  has  continuetl  down  to  the  present  time. 
Toward  1840,  steamboat  navigation  was  introduced,  first  from  Montreal  to  (Quebec,  and 
afterwards  from  Montreal  to  the  principal  towns  of  Ujiper  Canada.  This  was  the  dawn 
of  the  era  which  was  gradually  to  enlarge  into  the  system  of  railways  and  steamships 
whereby  the  stanilard  position  of  Montreal  as  one  of  the  chief  cities  of  the  continent 
was  permanently  assured. 

It  is  easy  to  trace  the  two  main  ilivisions  of  the  population  of  Montreal.  Taking 
St.  Lawrence  Main  Street  as  a  dividing  line,  all  that  is  east  of  it  is  L'rench,  and  all 
that  is  west  of  it  is  I'lnglish-spcaking.  Tlie  two  nationalities  scarcely  overlap  this  con- 
ventional barrier,  except  in  a  few  isolateil  cases.  And  other  external  characteristics  of 
the  l-'rcnch  [jopulation  are  as  distinct  as  tlieir  language.  TIk;  houses  are  li:ss  pre- 
tentious, though  quite  comfortable,  and  there  is  a  general  absence  of  ornament  or  of 
surrounding  plantations.  The  extreme  eastern  portion  is  designated  the  Quebec 
suburbs,  and  th(;re  the  native  people  can  be  studied  as  easily  as  in  the  rural  villages, 
from  which  the  majority  hail.  They  are  an  honest,  hard-working  race,  very  gay  and 
courteous,  and  of  primitive  simplicity  of  life.  Their  thrift  is  remarkable,  and  they 
manage  to  subsist  on  one  half  of  what  would  hardly  satisfy  the  needs  of  |)eople  of 
otiier  nationalities.  The  old  folks  speak  little  or  no  English,  but  it  is  different  with 
the  rising  generation.  These  use  the  two  languages  indifferently,  and  herein  possess 
a  marked  advantage  over  the  English,  Scotch  and  Irish.  Within  late  years  also,  they 
have  learned  to  husband  their  resources.  They  have  in  their  midst  a  tlourishing  branch 
of  the  City  and  District  Savings  Bank,  a  number  of  building  societies  and  two  or  three 
benevolent  guilds.  Their  poor  are  cared  for  by  the  St.  Vincent  de  Paul  Association. 
which  has  several  ramifications,  and  the  Union  St.  Joseph  is  devoted  to  the  relief  of 
artisans   during    life,   and    of    their  families  after  death. 

There  is  a  great  deal  of  hoarded  wealth  among  the  French  inhabitants,  but 
as  a  rule  they  do  not  invest  it  freely.  They  have  among  them  some  of  the  richest 
men  in  th(;  city  who,  however,  are  modest  in  their  wants,  and  make  no  displ.iy  either 
in  the  way  of  sumptuous  mansions  or  gaudy  ecpiipages.  Although  extremely  hospita 
ble  and  fond  of  society,  they  are  not  in  the  habit  of  giving  balli  or  fancy  entertain- 
ments,  their  evenings    being    spent  mostly  in   mutual  visits,  where  a  quiet  game  of  cards 


MONT RH A  I.. 


«I3 


predominates.      As    in    Paris    so   in 
Montreal,   it    is    not    easy    to    obtain 
access  into  the  inner  I'Vench  circles; 
but  once  initiatcil,  the  stranger  is  aj^reeably  sur- 
prised at  the  amount  of  jjrace  and  culture  which 
he  meets.       It    is  a  current    mistake    that  higher 
education  is  uncommon  among  these  people.    The 
gift  of  conversation  is  almost  universal ;  the  best 
topics  of   art  and  literature    are  freely  discussed, 
and  iatlics  are  familiar  with  political  (piestions. 

The  western  part  of  the  city  is  linglisli.  By 
this  term  is  meant  all  those  whose  vernacular  is  our  mother-tongue.  Numerically,  the 
I^nglish  portion  is  not  so  great  as  the  Scotch,  who  unquestionably  take  the  lead  in 
commerce,  iinance  and  public  enterprise  generally.  In  i)erhaps  no  section  of  the  Colo- 
nies have  luiglishmen  and  Scotchmen  made  more  of  tlun'r  o])portunities  than  in 
Montreal.  There  is  an  air  of  prosperity  about  all  their  surroundings  which  at  once 
impresses    the    visitor.     Taken  all  in   all,    there    is   perhaps  no  wealthier  city  area  in  the 


i> 


114 


(J  I' nunc 


world  (I). II)  lh.it  (-()in|>ris(:(l  ln'twccn  Itc.ivcr  llall  llill  and  the  foot  of  Mount  Ki))al, 
and  butwii-n  tlu-  parallel  lini-s  of  I )()riiirstcr  am!  Slurrhrookr  Strculs  in  the  West  Mud. 
Shcrbrookt;  Strce^t  is  scarcely  surpassed  hy  tln'  lifth  Avi-niie  of  New  York  In  llie 
n\a).jni(k'en<c  of  its  hnililin^s.  'i'he  j^jrounils  inclnde  demesne  anil  park,  the  iharnv. 
of  the  t()tinlr\'  amid  tlie  rush  and  roar  of  a  ^reat  lonimercial  eeiitre.  In  winter 
the  ccpiipajjes  prestMit  a  most  attractive  s|)ectaclc.  It  has  heen  said  that  in  tliis 
respect  only  St.  Petersburg'  can  liaim  prec<'dence  over  Montreal.  A  favourite  drive 
on  a  Saturday  afternoon  in  winter  is  from  Victoria  Scpiare  to  Nelson's  Column  and 
back,  the  sumptuous  sleij^dis  of  e\(ry  description,  drawn  by  hi^li-steppers,  and  bear- 
ing lovely  women  ensconceil  in  the  richest  furs  of  the  Canadian  forest,  followinj( 
each  other  in  endless  succession.  There  is  also  a  winter  drivinj;  club,  which  peri- 
odically starts  Iroin  tlie  iron  ^sites  of  Mediil  Collej.je  ami  ^dides  like  the  win''  aljnj.; 
the  country  roads  to  a  hospitable  renile/.vous  at  Sauk  aux  Kecollet,  Lachine  or  Lonj^ue 
Fo'' te,  where  a  Ixiunleous  repast  and  a  "ho])"  are  provided.  Tlu'  return  home  under 
tlie  moon  and  stars  is  the  most  enjoyable  featuri;  of  th('  entertainment,  and  many  a 
journe\-  tlirou^ii  life  has  been  initiated  by  these  e.xhilaratinj^  drives. 

Tile  extreme  south-western  portion  of  the  city  is  occupied  almost  exclusively  by  the 
Irish  pdpulation.  It  is  called  Griftinlown,  from  a  man  of  that  name  who  first  settled 
there  and  leased  a  larjje  tract  of  yround  from  the  Cirey  Nuns  for  ninety-nine  years.  Over 
sixty  years  of  this  lease  have  already  expired,  so  that  in  about  twenty-five  or  thirty  years 
the  ground  rent  of  this  immense  section  will  revert  to  tiie  nuns.  CJritTintown  comprises  a 
little  world  witiiin  itself — shops,  factories,  schools,  academies,  churclu-s  ami  as\lums.  The 
Irish  popidation  of  Montreal  take  a  high  staml  in  business,  politics  and  societ)-.  They 
number  in  their  ranks  many  successful  merchants  and  large  capitalists,  and  have  leading 
representatives  in  all  the  learned  professions. 

The  island  of  .Montreal  is  the  most  fertile  area  in  the  l'rovinc(!  of  Oueliec,  and  is 
sijecially  renowned  for  its  fruit,  tlu,'  Pomtiic  Urisr,  (jueiin  of  russets,  and  the  incom- 
l)arable  /•'dinciisc,  growing  with  a  perfection  obtainable  nowhere  else.  It  is  thickly 
settled,  iuing  studded  with  thrixing  \illages  and  rich  farms.  It  is  about  thirty  miles 
long  and  ten  ,  .oad,  an, I  is  formed  by  the  confluence  of  the  Ottawa  with  llie  St.  Law- 
rence at  .Ste.  Anne's,  in  the  western  extremity,  and  by  the  meeting  of  the  same  rivers 
at  Hout  de  I'lsle,  on  the  eastern  verge.  The  Ottawa  behind  the  island  is  called  Riviere 
des  Prairie-s  by  th(!  French,  whih;  the  Knglish  have  adopted  the  more  prosaic  title;  of 
Hack  River.  .About  the  middle  of  its  course  is  a  rapid  known  as  Sault  aux  Recollet,  .so 
called  from  a    Recollet    missionary  who  perished  there   in   the  days  of    the   Iroijuois. 

The  city  is  bountifully  provided  with  summer  resorts  and  retreats  within  easy 
distance  b\'  rail  and  river.  Lachine  and  Ste.  .-Anne's  have  long  been  favouritis  among 
these,  being  admirably  fitted  by  nature  for  boating  and  tisiiing  iJiirjjoses.  They  contain 
many  chai  :ning  villas  and  coimtry  houses.       St.   Lambert,   immediately  opposite  the  city. 


MONTR  HAL. 


>»S 


is  jjrowin^f  in  estimation  from  year  to  year.  An  old  st()|)i)!nj,'-|)la(t!  is  I,on),Mieuil, 
a  little  below  St.  Lambert,  which  has  lonj;  hail  a  considerable  lin^lish  colony,  anil  is 
still  a  favourite  n.-sort  in  summer.  No  institution  pays  so  well  as  the  l.on^'ueuil  l-erry, 
for  a  ^jreat  deal  of  the  traffic  from  the  fertile  counties  of  Chambly  and  l.aprairie  comes 
by  it  to  the  city.  The  ([uiet  bay  in  front  of  the  villaj^e  is  tlic  roadstead  for  tlu;  craft 
of  tiw  l.on^ueuil  Yacht  Club,  nhosc  record  stands  hi^di  in  acpulic  annals.  Within  ;in 
hour's  riile  is  Chambly,  situate  on  a  basin  of  the  same  name,  which  forms  part  of 
the  beautiful  Richelieu  River.  Directly  opposite  tower  the  basaltic  |)illars  of  ilelieil 
Mountain,  one    of    thtr    most    picturesque    spots    in   Canada,   on    whose   summit    a    lovely 


llIK     I.UNUL'KUM.     I  KKKV. 


lake   mirrors  ilic  sky     a  spot   resorted   to  by  scores  of  families  wiiose    iu'ads  are    able  to 
come    ami    >^o.    to   aiul   from  the  city,   without  detriment  to  their  business. 

In  the  way  of  |)arks  and  pleasure-j^rounds  Montreal  is  sinjjalarl\-  fortunate.  There 
is  a  Mountain  Park  and  an  Island  Park,  both  of  wiiicli  may  fairly  claim  to  be  unri- 
valled. The  former  cost  the  city  nearly  half  a  million  of  dollars,  but  is  well  worth 
the  money.  The  drive  round  it  is  a  favourite  afternoon  recreation  for  citizens  and 
visitors.  It  ascends  from  the  south-eastern  base  of  Mount  Royal,  by  curves  that  are 
sometimes  like  corkscrews,  to  the  hijfhest  altitude,  whence  a  maixnificent  jjanorama  is 
outspread,  includinij  the  whole  island  of  Montreal,  the  fair  Richelieu  peninsula,  the 
blue  waters  of  Lake  Champlain,  and  the  undulating-  line  of  the  Green  Mountains  of 
Vermont.  (^ur  illustration  on  page  113  shows  the  Nuns'  Island  above  the  Victr)ria 
bridge,  a  beautiful   islet    that    owes  its  name  to   its  ownership.       This   Mountain   Park    is 


, ,  ,^' 

m 


lii  li 


hi' 


ii6 


QUEBEC. 


S^     ? 


imperial 


still  in  its  native  rii^gedness,  ami  it 
will  take  years  before  it  is  toinpleteil, 
accordini;  to  a  scientilic  i)lan  enibracins; 
tracts  of  landscapo-jfarileniiit;,  relieveil 
by  sjjaces  of  woodland,  i^lade  aiul  pri- 
111  ival  forest.  It  is  intendeil  also  to 
have  preserves  for  t^aiiK;  and  wild  ani- 
mals. The  Ishuul  Park  is  St.  Helen's 
Island,  in  the  middle  of  the  river,  and 
in  it,  within  reaeli  iif  sliniL;  or  anpicbuse, 
Montreal  possesses  a  pleasiin;  resort 
nov.  here  excelled.  St.  Ilelen's  Islaml 
has  a  romantic  history.  Cliamplain's 
wife,  Helen  iiouille,  took  a  laiuy  to  it, 
boiii,dit  it  with  the  contents  of  her  own 
purse,  and  in  return  Champl.iin  :4ave  it 
her  name.  Later,  it  fell  into  the  hands 
of  tlu!  l-e  Moyne  family,  and  became 
incorporated  in  their  seii^niory  of  I, on 
"fueiiil.  I'inally,  it  was  purchased  b)'  the 
(iovernment    for  military    purposes,    and  barracks    were  erected  thereon.       After 


MONTRI-.AL. 


117 


the  departure  of  the  Hritisli  troops  from  the  cotintry,  the  property  was  passed  over  to 
the  I'ederal  Government,  who  leased  it,  on  certain  comlitions,  to  the  city  for  park  pur- 
poses. Looking  at  it  from  tiie  city  one  has  no  idea  of  its  iieight  in  the  centre.  It  slopes 
upward  from  the  water's  edge,  and  thus  affords  a  capital  military  position,  as  may  be  seen 
at  a  glance  in  our  illustration  of  liu;  Old  Mattery.  The  same  feature  makes  it  one  of  the 
best  possijjle  points  from  which  to  get  a  view  of  tlu-  city,  especially  of  the  harbour  and 
l()iig-<'xtcnilcd    line   of    wharves  and    docks,  with    the  mountain   towering  up   in   the   back- 


(HI)    ha'ii;kv.    st.    mki.kns    isi..\\ii. 


ground.  In  tin-  fall  of  1760,  the  islam!  was  the  scene  of  a  dramatic  incitlent.  The 
Chevalier  ilc  I.i'vis.  wiio  defeated  Murray  at  the  battle  of  Ste  boye  in  the  summer 
of  that  year,  and  would  have  recaptured  (hiebec  and  retrieved  the  disaster  of  the 
Plains  of  .Abraham,  had  noi  .1  Kiitish  licet  sutklenly  arriv.d  under  the  shallow  of 
Cape  DiainoiKl,  was  obligtid  to  retreat  towards  Montreal,  whither  he  was  soon  followed 
by  Murray  and  Andierst.  TIu'  l"rench  had  to  bow  to  the  inevitable,  and  \'autlreuil 
signiul  tlu!  articles  of  capitulation.  Meaiuime  I.i'vis,  who  h.ul  retired  to  .St.  Helen's 
Island,  sent  a  llag  of  truce  to  Murray,  to  recpiest  tin-  surren<ler  of  his  troops  with  the 
honours    of    war.        I'or    some    inexplicable    reason    this    demand    was    not    granted,    and 


rFP 


ii8 


QUEBEC. 


;ii 


the  high-minded  Frenchman  construed  the  denial  into  an  insult.  Wlien  the  shadows 
of  night  had  fallen,  and  the  foliage  of  the  great  trees  intensified  the  darkness,  he 
gathered  his  men  in  the  centre  of  the  island  around  a  pyre  of  blazing  wood.  At  the 
word  of  commanil  the  colours  were  trooped,  the  staffs  broken,  and  the  whole  thrown 
into  the  lire,  while  the  drums  beat  to  arms,  and  the  veterans  crieil  "  \'ive  la  l'"rance!" 
with  the  anguish  of  despair.  The  ne.xt  morning  the  remnant  of  the  l-'rencii  army 
filed  before  their  conquerors  and  pileil  their  arms,  but  never  a  shred  of  the  white 
flag  was   there,  to    dee[)en  their  humiliation. 

Chief  among  the  public  squares  and  gardens  of  Montreal,  in  size  and  in  historic 
interest,  is  the  Champ  de  Mars.  In  1812,  the  citadel  or  mound  on  the  present  site  of  Dal- 
housie  Square  was  demolished,  and  the  earth  of  which  it  was  composed  was  carrit^d  over 
and  strewn  upon  the  Ciiamp  de  Mars.  This  fact,  within  the  memory  of  th<:  oldest 
inhabitants,  h.as  led  some  ptniph;  to  suppose  that  the  I'"ield  of  Mars  dates  only  from  that 
comparatively  late  periotl.  Such,  however,  is  not  tile  fact.  No  doul)t  the  d.iii|)ing  of 
so  much  n(?w  earth,  with  ])roper  levelling  ami  rolling,  was  a  great  improvement ;  hut 
the  site  and  general  outlines  of  tht;  ground  itself  belong  to  a  higher  antitpiity.  I  he 
Champ  was  a  scene  of  promenade  in  the  old  l-'rench  days,  and  many  is  the  golden 
sunset  tiiat  fired  the  leafy  cylinders  of  its  Lombardy  poplars,  as  beaux,  with  peaked 
hats  and  pur|)le  doublets,  sauntered  under  their  graceful  ranks  in  liie  company  of 
short-skirted  damsels.  The  cliii'f  glory  of  the  Champ  de  Mars  is  its  military  histor)-. 
With  the  single  exception  of  the  Plains  of  .Abraham,  there  is  1.  other  piece  of 
ground  in  .'America  which  has  becMi  successively  trodden  by  the  armies  of  si  man\  dif- 
ferent nations  in  martial  array.  P'irst,  it  witnesseel  the  evolutions  of  the  'ue-coated 
FrenchmiMi — |)robably  such  historical  regiments  as  tiiose  of  Carignan  and  l\oii:iillon  .iinl 
its  sands  were  crunched  by  the  hoofs  of  chargers  that  bore  Montcalm  and  l.i'xis. 
Then  tlu;  serried  ranks  of  red-coats  paraded  from  the  days  of  Murniy  ami  Carleton. 
It  were  worth  while  to  know  how  many  regiments  of  the  British  army  have,  at  one 
time  or  another,  turned  out  on  the  Champ  de  Mars.  Ne.xt,  for  about  si.x  months,  tlu; 
ground  was  used  by 

"The  rocked-h.it  Ci)ntintnl.'ils, 
In  their  ragged   regimentals  ;" 


many  of  whom  went  forth  therefrom  to  defeat  and  death  under  the  cliffs  at  Oiubec, 
with  the  heroic  Montgomery.  .And  now  it  is  the  parade-ground  of  our  Canadian  XipJiin- 
teers.  The  illustration  gives  us  a  specimen  of  the  Victoria  Rilles,  one  of  Montreal's 
crack  regiments.  The  buildings  shown  are  the  rear  of  the  Hotel  de  Ville  and  of  the 
Court  Hoi'se ;  uien  the  twin  towers  of  the  |)arish  church,  which  are  seen  from  almost 
every  point  of  view;  and  next  to  them  the  side  of  the  modest  little  Presbyterian  Church 
called  .St.   (jabriel's,   which   is  given    below    in    its    full    dimensions.        This    is    the    nlilest 


MONTREAL. 


iiq 


Protestant  Cluircli  standing 
in  Montreal,  and  loni^  may 
it  stand,  for  it  preserves  the 
memory  of  Cliristian  cour- 
tesies between  three  lead- 
ing Christian  communions. 
While  tlie  church  was  l)eint( 
built,  the  good  old  Recolli't  Fathers  offered  the  congregation  the  use  of  their  chapel 
to  worshi|)  in.  The  :,turd\  Scotchmen  acce|)ted  the  offer,  antl  >vhcn  they  iiioved  into 
their  own  kirk  presented  the  i'athers  with  a  hogshead  of  Canary  wine  anil  two  boxes 
of  camlU's.  Subsequently,  when  tin:  Anglican  church  was  burnt,  the  Presbyterians — 
doubtlt'ss  remembering  how  they  had  been  indrl)tcd  to  others — came  forward  promptlj' 
ami    [>ut    St.   (iabriel's    at    the    entire    tlisposal    of    the    .Anglicans    for    the  half  of    every 


I20 


QUE/UtC. 


iii 


Vt' 


1   ! 


iii! 


■J  fj 


'its'  ■; 


MONTREAL. 


131 


Sunday,  until  their  churcli  could  be  rebuilt.  This  offer  was  accepted  as  graciously 
as  it  was  made,  and  thus  St.  (iabriel's  is,  in  itself,  a  monument  equal  in  interest  to 
anythin_sj;  in   Montreal. 

Historically,  the  Place  d'Armes  is  even  more  interesting.  As  it  stands  at  ])rcsent, 
there  are  few  more  charming  spots  in  Canada,  framed  in  as  it  is  by  the  Corinthian 
portico  of  tile  Montreal  Bank,  the  Ionic  colonnade  of  the  City  Hank  —now  the  buildings 
of  the  Canada  Pacific  Railway  Company — and  the  towers  of  Notre  Uame.  Our  view  is 
taken  from  Notre  Dame,  so  that  we  get  only  a  portion  of  the  Place  d'Armes  ;  but  while 
we  lose  part  of  the  Place,  we  gain  a  glimpse  of  the  city  as  a  whole,  e,\tending  away  to 
the  foot  of  the  mountains.  Next  to  the  Bank  of  Montreal,  witii  its  beautiful  portico, 
stands  the  Post  Ofifice.  Between  it  and  the  mountains  the  most  prominent  buildings  are 
St.  Mary's  College  and  the  Church  of  the  Gcsii,  which  attracts  Protestants  to  its  services 
by  good  music.  P'arther  west  the  unshapely  pile  of  St.  Patrick's  Cathedral  bulks  largely 
on  the  slope  of  Beaver  Hall.  The  garden  of  the  Place  d'Armes  is  very  beautiful  in 
summer,  with  its  young  trees  and  central  pyramidal  fountain ;  but  in  winter  it  is  invested 
with  a  particular  glory — for  the  place  is  the  colde.st  spot  in  Montreal  at  all  seasons  of  the 
year — the  nortli-west  winds  streaming  from  the  mountain  in  that  direction  as  through  a 
Colorado  caOon.  Its  history  goes  back  to  the  early  histor)-  of  tiie  city.  In  1643  and 
1644,  the  Colony  of  Villemarie — the  beautiful  ancient  name  of  Montreal — was  practically  in 
a  state  of  siege,  owing  to  the  incursions  of  Indians.  The  noble  Maisonneuve  kept  on  the 
defensive  for  a  time,  until  he  was  remonstrated  with,  and  several  of  his  more  influential 
followers  openly  charged  him  with  cowardice.  This  stirred  his  martiui  spirit ;  he  deter- 
mined on  changing  his  tactics.  With  a  train  of  dogs  accustomed  10  scent  the  trail  of 
the  Irocpiois,  anil  at  ilie  head  of  thirty  armed  men,  he  marched  out  in  the  direction  of 
the  mountain,  wiitre  he  was  met  by  upwards  of  two  hundred  savages,  who  fell  u])on 
him  and  compelleil  iiis  forces  to  retreat.  Maisonneuve  formed  liic  rear-guard.  With  a 
pistol  in  each  hand,  he  walked  slowly  back,  and  never  halted  until  he  reached  the-  present 
site  of  the  Place  d'Armes.  There,  when  the  French  had  repulsed  the  foe  and  gathered 
their  dead  and  wounded,  they  understood  both  the  valour  of  their  commandant  and  the 
wisdom  of  remaining  behind  the    shelter   of    their  fortifications. 

There  is  no  city  in  America  which  lias  a  greater  number  of  public  institutions  of 
an  ecclesiastical,  educational,  or  charitable  character.  Chief  among  these?  is  the  Church 
of  Notre  Dame,  the  largest  ecilfice  of  the  kind  in  America,  e.xcept  the  Cathedral  of 
Mexico.  At  tile  founding  of  Villemarie,  a  temporary  ciiapel  of  bark  was  built  on 
"  Pointe  a  Calliere,"  which  was  used  until  the  following  year,  when  a  wooden  structure 
was  raised  on  the  same  spot,  in  1654,  this  chapel  becoming  too  small,  M.  de  Mai.son- 
neuve  suggested  the  construction  of  a  more  commodious  church  adjoining  the  hospital 
in  St.  Paul  Street,  on  th(?  spot  where  stands  to-ilay  the  block  of  stores  belonging  to 
the    Hotel    Dieu.      Service    was    held   there    for    upwards  of  twenty  years.     In   1672,  the 


i. 


fl' 


.'^ 


m 

:^:i 


■>i  ? 


m 


133 


QUEBEC. 


foundations  of  a  more  spacious  edifice  were  laid  in  tiie  Place  d'Armes,  and  the  church 
was  completed  in  1678.  This  lasted  till  1823,  when  the  present  temple  was  devised, 
which,  on  the  15th  June,  1829,  was  opened  for  public  worship  under  the  auspices  of 
Mjjr.  Lartijjue,  first  R.  C.  Bishop  of  Montreal,  The  pile  was  intended  to  he 
a    representative    of    its  namesake,    Notre    Dame,   of    Paris.        Its    towers    are    227    feet 


in  heif^ht,  and  contain  a  pi^al  of 
eleven  hc-lls,  unri\alled  on  this 
continent.  The  "  Ciros  Bourdon 
of  the  W(;.stcrn  tower  is  numhercd 
amoni^r  the  live  heaviest  liciis  in 
the  world.  It  was  ca.st  in  Lon- 
don, weij^hs  24,780  pounds,  is  si.x  feet  hi_srh,  and  at  its  mouth  ineasures  eight  feet 
seven  inches  in  diameter.  The  nave  of  the  church,  including  the  sanctuary,  is  220 
feet  ill  length,  nearly  80  feet  in  height,  69  in  width,  exclusive  of  the  side  aisles, 
which  measure  25?/^  feet  each,  and  the  walls  are  five  feet  thick.  The  church  is 
capable  of  holding  12,000,  and  on  extraordinary  occasions,  wiien  chairs  are  used, 
15,000  i)er.sons.  The  twin  towers  of  Notre  Dame  stand  out  to  e\(r\-  traveller  as  one 
of   the    notable    landmarks  of  Montreal. 


13  .-,  I  fl 


MONTREAL. 


123 


Other  churches  are  so  numerous  that  Montreul,  like  Brooklyn,  has  been  denomi- 
nated the  City  of  Churches.  Christ  Church  Cathedral,  on  St.  Catherine  Street,  stands 
deservedly  first.     It  is  a  j^em  of  (iothic  architecture,  not  surpassed  by  Grace  Church,  of 

New  York.  It  is  built  of 
limestone,  dressed  with 
cream-coloured  sandstone, 
and  its  interior  fittings 
are  in  remarkably  good 
taste.  In  the  grounds  is 
a  monument  to  the  mem- 
ory of  Bishop  Fulford, 
one  of  the  most  dis- 
tinguished prelates  that 
ever  ruled  liie  Church 
of  England  in  Canada. 
The  Presbyterians  have 
noble  edifices  in  St. 
Paul's   and   St.    Andrew's. 


PUl-Prr     OK     NOTRK     PAMli. 


The  Methodists,  Unitarians,  Congregationalists  and  others  are  well  represented,  while 
the  Israelites  have  two  synagogues.  The  Jesuits  boast  of  a  church  which  is  an 
exact  counterpart  of  the  celebrated  Gcsu,  of  Rome.  The  spirit  of  ambition  is  strong 
in  the  Catholics.  The  late  Bishop,  Mgr.  Bourget,  commenced  the  task  of  erecting  a 
fiic-siiiiilc  in   miniature  of  .St.  Peter's.     The    architect  was  instructed  to  proceed  to   Rome 


fff 


124 


QUEBEC. 


li'    > 


ii 


li  :  : 


anil  simply  reduce  St.  i'cter's  to  exactly  one-third  of  its  actual  dimensions  and  repioduce 
it  in  that  fashion  in  Montreal.  .Slowly  it  lias  i)een  j.jrowing  before  tlu:  puz/led  eyes  of 
the  citizens,   and  stranjjers  ask  with   wonderment    what    it    is,  or  is  likely  to  be. 

Not  only  are  the  charitable  institutions  of  Montreal  more;  numerous  in  res|:ect 
to  population  than  those  of  any  other  city  on  this  continent,  but  several  of  them 
belong  to  a  high  antiquity,  and  are  intimately  connected  with  salient  events  in  the 
history  of  New  France.  The  foundation,  for  instance,  of  the  Hotel  Dieu,  reads  like 
a  romance.  When  Maisonneuve  offered  his  services  to  the  "  Compagnie  de  Montreal," 
and  was  nameil  Governor  of  the  future  colony,  he  was  sagacious  enough  to  understand 
that  his  scheme  stood  in  neeil  of  a.  virtuous  woman  who  wouKl  take  care  of  the  sick, 
and  superintend  the  distribution  of  supplies.  Sucii  a  person  shoulil  be  of  heroic 
mould,  to  face  the  dangers  and  privations  of  the  wiklerness.  What  goiil  could  not 
purchase.  Providence  supplied  in  the  person  of  a  young  woman — Jeanne  Mance,  ilaughter 
of  a  prociirciir  du  roi,  near  Lamoges,  in  Champagne — wiio  was  impelled  by  an  irre- 
sistible roc(i//o)i  to  tile  missions  of  New  l'"rance.  Queen  Anne,  of  Austria,  and  several 
distinguisiicd  lailies  of  tlu-  Court,  apprised  of  her  merit  ami  e.\traordinary  resolution, 
encouraged  lier  in  her  ilesign  ;  and  Madame  Bouillon,  a  distinguished  lady  of  that 
period,  placed  means  at  iur  disjjosal  for  tlie  establishment  of  an  iiospital.  In  tin- 
summer  of  1641,  two  vessels  saileil  from  L.i  Rochelle,  one  bearing  Maisonneu\(.',  a 
priest  ant!  twenty-tive  men — the  other  carrying  Ma«lemoiselle  Mance,  a  missionary  anil 
twelve  men.  The  winter  was  spent  at  Sillery,  near  Quebec.  On  the  oin'ning  of 
navigation  in  1642,  a  small  llotilla,  consisting  of  two  barges,  a  pinnace  and  another 
boat,  mo\-ed  up  tlu;  solitary  highway  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  ami  on  the  iSth  May 
possession  was  taken  of  Montreal  by  the  celel)ration  of  a  solemn  mass,  VV  two 
principal  jicrsons  who  figured  at  the  ceremony  were  Maisonneuve  and  Mademoiselle 
Mance  ;    and  tlius  it  happeneil  that  a  woman  assisted  in  the  founding  of  this  great  city. 

Another  comnuiniiy  lias  long  been  identified  wiili  tin;  iiistory  of  Montreal.  The 
mission  of  the  Grey  Nuns  is  to  assist  the  poor,  visit  the  sick,  educate  the  orphan,  and 
enfold  with  maternal  arms  the  nameless  and  homeless  foundling.  There  is  no  charity 
more  beautiful  than  theirs,  and  hence  their  popularity  with  Protestants  as  well  as 
Catholics.  The  Order  was  founded  by  Madame  de  Zanille,  a  Canadian  lady,  belonging 
to  the  distinguished  families  of  Varennes  and  Boucher  de  Boucherville.  The  old  con- 
vent stood  for  many  years  on  Foundling  Street — named  thus  in  its  honour — opposite 
Ste.  Anne's  Market, — but  had  to  make  way  for  the  encroachments  of  trade,  and  has 
since  been  transferred  to  magnificent  buildings  on  Guy  Street.  The  Grey  Nuns  have 
spread  over  the  Province,  and  have  numerous  representatives  in  the  north-west,  as  far 
even  as  the   Upper  Saskatchewan. 

in  tin;  noble  work  of  charity,  the  I'rotestant  population,  although  numericalh'  far 
inferior,    has    more    than    held    its   own.      Notwithstanding    the    amplitude    of   its   accom- 


S: 


MONTREAL. 


'25 


modation,  the  General  Hospital  was  not  found  sufficiently  larj,^e,  and  a  good  citizen, 
Major  Mills,  established  another  in  the  extreme  west  end,  whence  it  derives  its  name 
of  the  Western  Hospital.  It  has  been  said  that  charity  differs  from  trade  in  this, 
that    whereas   the    latter    is    always    in    direct    ratio    of    supply    to    demand,    the    former 

reverses  the  rule ;  and  the  •md(re^  it  expands 
its  resources,  the  more  it  fiifl^i,  objects  of 
misery  to  relieve.  The  principle  has  held 
good  in  the  case  of  the  Western  llo.spital, 
which  has  been  crowded  from  its  opening  day. 
In  1863  a  number  of  leading  citizens, 
realizing  the 
necessity    of 


a  peculiar  asylum  of 
help  for  tiie  Protestant 
[)Oor  and  unfortunate 
-especially  the  aged 
and  feeble,  who  had 
no  means  of  livelihood 
— raised  upwards  of 
$80,000,  with  wiiich 
they  laid  the  founda- 
tions of  the  institution  called  the  Protestant  House  of  Refuge  and  Industry.  The 
dual  character  of  tiie  population,  elsewhere  referred  to,  has  made  necessary  a  double 
set  of  asylums  for  Protestants  and  Catholics,  which  accounts  for  the  extraordinary 
number  of  these  institutions,    as  compared  with   the    total    number  of  inhabitants. 


IN    Tin-;    CllAPKl.    OK    GKl-.V    NUNNERY. 


5 


136 


QVEHEC. 


Cliief  ainonj;  the  educational  cstahlisliments  of  Montreal  is  McClill  University,  whose 
history  embraces  several  features  that  deserve  consideration.  Hon.  James  McClill,  who 
was  born  at  Glasjjow  in  174-1.  and  died  at  .Montreal  in  1S13,  by  his  last  will  and  testa- 
ment devised  the  estate  of  Ihirnside,  containinjj  forty-seven  acres  of  lantl,  and  bequeathed 
a  large  sum  of  money  for  the  purposes  of  this  foundation.  The  University  was  erected 
by    Royal    Charter    in     i8ji,    and    reorganized    by   an    amended   Charter    in     iiS52.       Its 


\\A 


iil 


m' 


mm 


nn 


endowments,  e.xhibilions  and  scholar- 
ships are  already  respectable.  Ihe 
Mol.son  Chair  of  l'!nL,dish  l.antjuage  and 
Literature,  the  I'eter  Redpath  Chair 
of  Natural  History,  the  Lo^an  Chair 
of  Ceoloiry,  the  John  P'rothinsrham 
Chair  of  Mental  and  Moral  Philosophy, 
have  each  an  endowment  of  $20,000.  Students  attend  McGill  not  only  from  every 
Province  of  the  Dominion,  but  from  the  United  States.  It  counts  among  its  professors 
some  distinguished  scholars,  notably  Dr.  Dawson,  the  Principal,  whose  scientific  reputation 
is  world-wide.  Among  the  affiliated  institutions  are  Morrin  College,  Quebec  ;  .Si.  l-'rancis 
College,  Richmond;  the  Congregational  College  of  British  North  America;  the  I're.sby- 
terian  College  of  Montreal;   the   Diocesan  College  of  Montreal,  and  the  Wesleyan  College 


I 


MONTR  HAL. 


137 


of  Montreal.      Under   the  rejjulations  for  the  establishment  of  Normal   Schools    in    the 
Province  of   Quebec,   the    Superintendent  of    lulucation  is   cmijowered    to   associate  with 
himself,  for  the  direction  of   one  of   these  schools,  the  Kiiiioratioii  of  McCliil   University. 
In  accordance  with   this  arrani^ement,  the    Pro- 
vincial   Protestant    Normal  School    is  affiiliatcd 
with    Mr(jill.    and    for    the    past    quarter    of    a 
century    has     trained     teachers,    especially    for 
the    Protestant    population    of     tiie     Province. 
The    Moili'l    Schools    attached    to    the    institu- 
tion are  three    in   number — one    for    boys,    one 


ANCIKNT     rOWKKS    AT     MON  rKi:.\i.    COI.I.I'.r.K. 

for  ^\v\?,,  and  a  primary.  These  schools  are  capable  of  accommodatinj;  about  three 
hundred  pupils ;  are  supplied  with  the  best  furniture  and  apparatus ;  and  are  conducted 
on  the  most  apjjrovcd  methods  of  teachinjr.  They  receive  pupils  from  the  aije  of  six 
and  upwards,  anil  jrjve  a  thorout^h  fui<,dish  education.  There  are  two  high  schools — 
one    for    boys  and   another  for  jjirls — largely  attended. 

Montreal  College  and  St.  Mary's  College  are  Roman  Catholic  institutions.  The 
former  occupies  a  magnificent  site  on  Sherbrooke  Street,  at  the  foot  of  the  niuunlain, 
and  the  building  is  probably  the  largest  single  and  continuous  pile  in  America.  This 
institution    has    been    intimately    associated    with    the    history    of    Montreal    for   over    a 


if^ 


1 1  s^ 

ft 


m 


laS 


(jUlilUiC. 


hiindriiil  years.  It  is  iiiuler  tlic  toiiirnl  of  the  Sfiiiinary  i>f  St.  .Siilpict:,  who  were 
made  seigniors  tif  tin-  Island  of  Moninal  and  its  environs  i)y  Royal  Letters  Patent, 
in     1640.       The     Tluoloj^Mcal     I)<  tni    is    specially    remarkable,    and    has    been    the 

nursiry  of    priests    and    nvssiona  lor    nii)r»'    than    a   century.       Its  stuilents   are    from 

all  parts.  Chief  amonjj  the  objects  of  interest  connecteil  with  the  collejje  are  the 
two  round  towers  near  the  pates,  which  tradition  traces  back  to  the  early  days  of 
the  colony,  when  they  were  built  as  outposts  of  defence  against  the  reil  nun.  These 
towers  are  kept  in  a  perfect  state  of  preservation,  as  m»;morials  of  those  ancient  days 
of  peril. 

St.  Mary's  College,  on  Bleiiry  Street,  is  under  the  direction  of  the  Jesuit  Fathers, 
and  their  boast  is  that  it  is  second  to  none  of  their  establishments  on  this  continent, 
which  is  saying  a  great  deal  when  one  is  accpiainted  with  such  okl  and  successful  colleges 
as  those  of  Fordham,  N.  Y.,  Georgetown,  I).  C,  and  St.  Louis.  Mo,  Their  celebrated 
Ratio  Stiiiiioriim  is  carried  out  to  the  lett('r,  and  tiie  results  deserve  attention,  because 
tin-  methoils  are  so  different  fron  th.osi'  in  \()guf  in  our  ila)'.  Tiiert!  is  tone  and  style 
in  everytliing  connected   with   S  i-y's  Collegi'.      .Strangers  are  received  witii  tiie  utmost 

courtesy,  whether  they  visit  the  .  dtioii  its'^lf  or  the  adjoining  Church  of  tlie  (icsii, 
to  see  its  relics  of  saints  and  its  frescoes. 

A  second  Normal  School  for  the  I'rench  and  Catholics,  under  the  patronymic  of 
Jacques  Cartier,  was  located  from  its  foumlation  in  th(!  old  Government  House  at 
Chateau  Kameza\',  op|)osite  the  Ciiy  Hall,  but  has  since  been  transferriul  to  palatial 
quarters  on  an  eminence  at  the  East  I'^ml.  The  man.igement  is  almost  wholly 
ecclesiastical,  the  Principal  being  Abbe  N'erreau,  distinguished  as  an  historian  ami 
antifjuariau.  Tiie  Catholic  Commerci.il  .Acaileniy,  off  St.  Catherine  '"ireet,  is  the  only 
institution  of  tiie  kind  in  tiie  Province  which  is  .iiiogetiier  untler  the  control  of  laymen, 
ant!   from  all  accounts  it  has  met  witli  complete  success. 

Tile  Art  Association  of  Montreal  was  incorporated  in  1858,  but  for  many  years  it 
had  but  a  languid  existence.  The  late  Bishop  I'ulford  ilid  much  to  encourage  its  mem- 
bers, but  the  credit  of  having  placed  the  society  on  a  p(;rmancnt  footing  is  due  to 
Hc;naiah  Gibh,  who  left  property,  money,  and  a  number  of  paintings  from  his  own  col- 
lection, to  form  a  gallery.  A  suitable  building  has  been  erected  in  Phillips'  Square, 
and  the  art  gallery  was  recently  opened  by  His  Excellency  the  Marquis  of  Lome  and 
11.   R.    II.   tile   Princess  Louise. 

While  little  h.is  been  done  for  art,  h'ss  has  been  done  for  libraries.  The  Me- 
chanics' Institute  has  a  collection  of  books,  but  not  at  ill  a(ie(|uate  to  the  wants  of 
so  large  a  population.  A  movement  is  at  pre.sent  on  foot,  tending  to  the  establishment 
of  a  public  library  commensurate  with  the  size,  wealth  anil  culture  of  the  city.  In  truth, 
money  was  loft  by  the  late  Mr.  Eraser,  to  build  and  furnish  a  public  library,  but  for 
some  mysterious  reason,   the  library  is  still  in  posse.       The    Institut    Canadit'n   flourished 


MONTR  HA  I.. 


139 


J  " 


CHKIST     ClIl'KCM     CATUKDKAI..     IKOM     I'llII.I.IPS'    SQl'AKK. 


for    many  years  with    a    good    library  and    rcadiiij^-room,  l)iii    it    lias   of   late    fallen    into 
disuse,  and  its  books  ha\o  been  achertisod  for  sale. 

Hut  Montreal  is  more  interested  in  outdoor  sports  and  in  organizinj';  amusement 
clubs  than  in  art.  Tiie  Victoria  skating  club,  whose  famous  rink  on  Drummond  Street 
was  OIK'  of  till'  lirst  erected  on  this  continent,  has  been  the  scene  of  many  brilliant  fancy- 
dress  (Mitertainnients,  wiiich  Ro)alty  and  nobility  have  graced.  Those  "carnivals"  on  the 
ice  were  first  instituted  here,  and  have  since  become  popular  elsewhere.     There  are  three 


I 


'30 


QUhBEC. 


^'iii 


II 4 


ciirlintj  clubs — tlu'  Caledonia,  Montreal  and  Thistle — with  a  Canadian  Iiranch  of  the 
Royal  Caledonian  curlins^  club  of  Scotland.  Tiie  Montreal  curling  clul)  was 
founded  in  1807,  and  ranks  iiij^h.  in  the  annals  of  the  "roarin'  _L;ame."  Snow-shoeiny 
has  been  reduced  to  an  art.  The  parent  club,  tiie  "  Montreal,"  is  i)erha|)s  tlie  most 
prosperous  corporate  body  of  the  kind  in  the  city.  ihe  costume  is  sint^ularly  pic- 
turesque— white  llannel  coat  and  le;^  ji"gs,  blue  cap  with  tassel— from  wiiicii  is  tlerived 
tile  |)opular  name  of  Tu<|ue  Bleue — red  sash  and  moccasins.  There  is  no  prettier  sij^ht 
tiian  tiiat  of  tiie  club  meetinij;  at  tiie  McCiill  CoUeije  tjates.  moving;'  ii|>  tlu-  llaiii<  of  the 
mountain  to  the  "  IMnes,"  and  tlien  glidiiij^  to  tlie  rendezvous  at  tiie  Clul)  House,  at 
Outremont.  Tlie  memorable  torchlight  procession  ov(.'r  this  route  to  iIk;  hospitable 
villa  of  'Ihornbur)-,  made  in  honour  of  Lord  Dufferin,  in  1S73,  was  a  fairy  spectacle 
wliich  will  never  be  forgotten  by  those  who  witnessed  it.  Every  winter  there  is  a  sweep- 
stak(;s  over  the  mountain,  a  ilay  ilevoted  to  games  and  races,  and  se\(ral  tramps  across 
',;ountry  to  a  distance  of  twentN-live  or  thirty  miles.  Lacrosse;  is  the  "national  game" 
of  Canada,  and  in  that  charactiT  it  Iiatl  its  birth  in  Montreal,  hour  or  ti\-e  years  ago, 
a  select  ti;am  made  the  tour  of  I'Ingland,  and  had  the  honour  of  playing  before  Her 
Majesty  at  Wimlsor.  The  Indian  clubs  of  Caughnawaga  and  .St.  Regis  always  take 
])art  in  tlu;  games,  but  they  have  long  lost  the  supremac\-  which  they  enjoyeil  for  cen- 
turies. There  is  also  a  golf  club,  established  in  1S73,  luuler  the  auspices  of  the  Earl 
of  I)uff('rin  ;  a  bicycle  club,  foot-ball  club,  and  a  chess  clul).  which  numbi:rs  among  its 
members  some  of  the  strongest  and  most  brilliant  pla\ers  in  the  country;  an  acti\e  and 
energetic  club  for  the  protection  of  fish  and  game,  as  \\i;ll  as  a  societ\'  for  the  pre- 
vention of  crut'lt)-  to  animals;  two  gymnasia,  ;uul  a  Mctiill  Collcgi-  athletic  el  ib, 
whose  annual  games  recili  many  feats  of  skill  and  strength,  iioaiing  is  also  a  faxourile 
pastime,  and  there  are  three  large  yacht  clubs-  the  Montreal.  I.ongiienil  and  l.acliine. 
.\  regatta  in  lloclielaga  liasin,  with  the  jirow  of  tlu;  gr.iceful  little  \essels  stei-ring  straight 
as  a  needle  for  the  twin  s[)ires  of  X'arennes  Cliurcii,  is  as  [)rett\  a  sight  as  one  could 
wi;;h  to  see. 

The  turning-point  in  tlu-  business  history  of  Montrc^al  was  in  1S50  or  thereaiiouts, 
when  it  suddenh'  manifested  a  tendency  to  e.xpand.  That  cli.inge  w.is  m.iinly  due  to 
two  causes — the  .Allan  Line  of  Steamships  and  the  ( jr.uid  Trimk  RaiUv.iy.  This  le.uls  us 
to  speak  of  the  shipping  and  the  c,irr\ing-tr.ule  from  the  interior  to  the  seaboard,  and 
ziicc  versa.  Ihe  geogra])hii'al  position  of  tJK;  city  is  of  course  exceptional  ;  but  in  order 
to  maki'  the-  most  of  it.  it  was  necessary  to  obviate  the  ditlicidty  presented  by  tlu'  L.ichine 
Rapids  to  up-stream  navig.ition.  I  lie  only  way  to  do  that  was  tcj  turn  the  rapids  liy  a 
canal.  Ihe  Sulpici.ms  understood  this  as  far  back  as  171x3,  when  they  opened  a  sluice, 
2'j  feet  deep,  by  the  River  St.  Pierre  to  Montreal,  and  useil  boats  therein.  In  1.S21 
public-spiritei!  citi/ins.  led  iiv  Hon.  John  Rich.irdsnii.  resoKcd  to  eiil.ui^e  tiiis  primitive 
boat    canal    into   a    barge    canal.       Richardson    wanted    it    to   e.xtend    from    Lachine   to 


^ 


MONTREAL. 


131 


Sn.A.MI.K     lAS^MM,     I.ULKS,     AND     UNLUAIUMJ     MIUS     IIV     l.LEClKIC     I.H.Ill. 


Ilocliclaj^a,  so  as  to  axoid  the  ciiircnt  opiiositc  tin-  fort  of  St.  Ilclcn's  Island  ami 
Isle  Ronilc,  and  thus  make  iioclulai^a  thu  real  |)ort,  as  X.itiirc  inttiulrd  it  to  i)c,  scciiv^ 
that  in  its  niajt;stic  li.isin  the  Ihcis  of  tiic  world  niJLjht  moor  in  safety.  Hut  the  oppo- 
sition of  interested  |)arliis  ihwartcii  this  vast  desit;!),  and  the  canal  was  dui;  only  to 
Windmill  I'oii't,  its  present   terminus,  a  ilistance  of  S'..    miles.       l  he   work  was  commencetl 


wm 


13^ 


QUEBEC. 


i 


«i 


i  ' 


in  1 82 1  and  completed  in  1825.  Rut  there  was  more  to  come,  because  more  was  needed. 
The  barge  canal  was  not  sufficient,  and  must  give  way  to  a  ship  canal.  Tl.e  widening 
began  in  1843  and  continued  till  its  completion  in  1849,  at  an  outlay  of  over  $2,000,000. 
With  the  opening  of  these  works  the  commercial  supremacy  of  Montreal  was  secured, 
because  it  fixed  the  union  of  ocean  and  inland  navigation  The  trade,  indeed,  grew  to  such 
a  volume  that  the  canal  was  once  more  found  inadequate,  and  in  1875  anotiier  enlargement 
was  begun,  at  an  estimated  cost  of  $6,500,000.  This  is  part  of  a  gigantic  scheme  for 
the  widening  of  the  whole  St.  Lawrence  canal  system,  a  work  whose  magnitude  will 
be  understood  when  we  remember  that  from  the  Atlantic  entrance  of  the  straits  of  Belle 
Isle,  via  tlie  St.  Lawrence  and  inland  lakes  to  the  head  of  Lake  Superior,  the  distance 
is  23S4  mile.s,  and  that  on  that  route  there  are  the  Lachine,  Beauharnois,  Cornwall, 
Farran's  Point.  Rapiile  Plat,  Galops  and  Welland  Canals,  the  aggregate  length  of  which 
is  70^  miles  ;  and  the  total  lockage  336.^4  feet,  through  fifty-four  locks  up  to  Lake  Erie ; 
also,  the  Sault  Ste.  Marie  Canal,  built  by  the  t'nited  States,  one  and  one-seventeenth 
miles  in  length,  with  eighteen  feet  of  lockage.  Tliese  canals  make  Montreal  the  rival  of 
New  York  for  the  grain  and  provision  trade  "f  the  (.ireat  West  and  North-west.  Her 
facilities  are  great,  and  there  is  every  prospi-ct  of  farther  and  speedy  development. 
Already,  we  can  get  on  board  the  "  Bohemian,"  or  some  other  large  and  well-appointed 
steamer,  at  the  lowest  dock  of  the  Lachine  Canal,  and  take  as  pleasant  a  summer 
journey  up  the  St.  Lawrence  as  mortal  tired  of  the  dust  and  heat  of  the  city  can 
desire ;  and  still  on  by  water  without  a  break,  up  lake  after  lake,  to  "  the  city  of 
the  unsalted  seas,"  in  the  iieart  of  the  Continent.  Or,  we  can  go  east  as  safely  as 
west.  Nearly  thirty  years  ago  the  first  steamers  of  the  Allan  Company  were 
sent  forth,  but  a  series  of  disasters  well-nigh  brought  the  enterprise  to  the  grouml. 
The  Company  persevered,  however,  until  now  they  possess  one  of  tlu;  fuust  and  largest 
fleets  alloat,  comprising  twenty-five  iron  and  steel  steamers,  to  say  nothing  of  swift 
and  powerful  clippers.  These  vessels  ply  lietween  Montreal  and  Liverpool,  Montreal 
and  Cdasgow,  Boston  and  Liverpool,  and  Boston  and  Cjlasgow.  Tliere  are  beside 
eight  or  ten  steamship  lines  em[)lo)ed  regularly  in  the  Montreal  trade — tiie  Dominion, 
B('av'jr,  Temperley,  Ross,  Thompson,  Donaldson,  Great  Western,  White  Cross  and  Gulf 
Ports.  A  French  line  is  also  in  near  contemplation,  for  next  .season,  as  well  as  a  service 
witii  Brazil.  Tix'  inland  navigation  is  perfectly  supplied.  We  have  a  daily  mail  steamer 
to  and  from  Quebec,  connecting  with  steamers  to  all  the  watering  places  of  the  Lower 
St.  Lawrence  and  the  .Saguenay ;  also  a  daily  lin<;  to  the  ports  of  Ontario  as  far  as 
Hamilton ;  another  daily  line  up  the  Ottawa,  and  a  number  of  way-boats  to  all  the 
villages  and  towns  of  tiie  St.  Lawrence  and  Richelieu  Rivers.  The  port  is  admirably 
provided  with  wharves  and  basins,  and  farther  accommodation  is  being  prepared. 
Indeed,  the  enlargement  of  the  harbour  is  one  of  the  main  ipiestions  of  the  future,  and 
some  remarkable  plans  have  already    been    submitted    to    the    public.       All    the    modern 


MONTREAL 


»33 


appliances  for  loading  and  unloading  are  employed,  and  the  facilities  for  almost  immediate 
transhipment  from  freight-cars  to  the  hold  of  vessels  are  unsurpassed.  Montreal  was  the 
first  port  in  the  world  lighted  by  electricity.  The  result  is  continuous  labour.  The 
electric  lights  are  placed  at  intervals  of  about  two  hundred  yards,  from  the  mouth  of 
the  Lachine  Canal  to  Hochelaga,  so  that  the  whole  harbour  is  lit  up.  The  question  of 
harbour  dues  has  been  engaging  attention,  and  steps  have  been  taken  to  make  Montreal 
a  free  port.  The  port  is  governed  by  a  Board  of  Commissioners,  a  portion  of  whom 
represent  the  Federal  Government,  another  the  shipping  interest,  and  a  third  part  the 
city  corporation.  It  is  impossible  to  conceive  of  a  more  striking  contrast  than  that  pre- 
sented by  the  harbour  in  summer  and  in  winter.  Our  illustration  shows  that  part  of 
it  near  the  Custom  House  called  Island  Wharf.  The  dock  here  is  always  crowded  with 
ocean  steamers,  elevators  drawing  grain  from  barges  and  loading  them,  and  vessels  and 
skiffs  of  all  sizes — while  a  forest  of  masts  and  funnels  extends  far  down  the  river.  The 
scene  is  one  of  busy  labour  night  and  day.  The  great  river  sweeps  past  in  calm 
majesty,  with  a  force  that  no  power  could  arrest.  Hut  the  frost  king  comes,  and  everything 
that  looks  like  commerce  takes  flight.  The  river  is  sealed  fast,  till  another  power 
comes  with  kindly  influences.  The  spring  rains  and  suns  rot  the  ice,  and  it  begins  to 
break.  Montreal  is  on  the  qui  rive  to  see  it  start  down  the  river.  It  starts,  but  is 
usually  blocked  at  Isle  Ronde,  and  grounds.  Then  it  shoves,  and  piles  up,  and  the 
lower  parts  of  the  city  are  flooded.  To  cross  with  a  boat  at  such  a  time  is  not 
only  an  exciting  but  often  a  perilous  undertaking,  as  the  cakes  of  ice  may  move  or 
turn  under  the  men,  when  of  course  the  danger  is  extreme  even  to  the  most  skilful 
ice-navigators. 

The  Grand  Trunk  Railway  has  been  for  years  the  main  artery  of  the  commerce 
of  the  country,  and  Montreal  is  its  chief  terminus.  Five  other  lines  of  railway  centre 
here  —  the  Champlain  and  St.  Lawrence,  Central  Vermont,  Boston  and  Delaware, 
South-Eastern,  and  North  Shore.  The  North  Shore  (officially  named  the  Quebec,  Mon- 
treal, Ottawa  and  Occidental  Railway)  has  its  central  station  in  the  eastern  part  of  tlie 
city,  on  the  site  of  the  olil  Quebec  Gate  Barracks,  which  had  to  be  torn  down  in  con- 
sequence, thus  depriving  the  city  of  one  of  its  most  interesting  historical  landmarks. 
This  railway  is  the  property  of  the  local  government,  which  is  said  tf)  have  expended 
abnut  thirteen  millions  in  its  construction,  thereby  creating  a  debt  that  weighs  like  an 
incubus    upon    the    Province. 

Tile  Montreal  Boanl  of  Tratle  was  incorporated  by  Act  of  Parliament  in  1842,  and 
consists  of  an  F.xecutive  and  a  Hoard  of  Arbitrators.  There  is  also  a  Corn  I'^xchange 
Association,  incorporated  in  1863,  with  a  Committee  of  Management  ami  a  Hoard  of 
Review.  A  thiril  corporation,  the  Dominion  Hoard  of  Traile,  received  its  initiation 
mainly  in  Montreal,  though  its  annual  meetings  have  generally  been  lu:lil  in  Ottawa. 
Another    important  body  is    the    MdiUreal    Stock  Exchange,  which    holds   two  daily  ses- 


w 


134 


QUEBEC. 


sions,  fdrcnodii  and  afternoon.  Tlie  scone  of  its  operations  is  St.  I'nuK^ois  Xavicr  Street, 
which  is  tile  Wall  Stri'ct  of  Montreal.  I  here  all  the  brokers  ha\e  their  offices,  and 
about  noon,  on  certain  days,  the  sitK:\vaIks  are  crowiled  with  dealers  and  speculators, 
discussing  the  ebb  anil  llow  of  stocks,  and  conducting  their  mysterious  operations.  St. 
l''ran(;;ois    Xavi(;r    is    one  of    the  oldt^st    and   narrowest  streets    of    the    city,  but  it  affords 


I'   -I 


■i 


•  fi 


lil,.' 


TUANSM.UKING     PRKR^.HT     BV     KI.IC'IKIC     I.If.liT. 

a  curious  ground  of  observation  for  the  visitor  who  wishes  to  ff)rni  an  idea  of  the 
financial  importance  of  the  tan.idian  metr<)])olis.  When  the  heterogeneousness  of  the 
population  is  taken  into  account,  the  city  government  ma\  be  said  to  be  fairly  well 
administered.  The  standing  trouble  is  th<-  rivalry  between  the  l^ast  and  V\'est  I'juls — 
that   is,    the    I'rench  and   I'",nglish-speaking  ])ortions. 

St.    I'rbain    is    another  street    that   ma\-  be    said    to  be  on    the  border-land    between 
the     I'^nglish    ami    the    I'"rench-s|)eaking    ])opulation  of    Montreal.       We    see    it    in   wintet 


-\ 


*\ 


MONTREAL. 


135 


MUNTUEAL    WlNlliK     bCKNhb. 


136 


QUEBEC. 


M   t^ 


I.. . 


liij,.,. 


dress,  the  snow  cleared  from  the  sidewalks  and  forming  parallel  lines,  between  which 
traltic  makes  its  way  much  more  smoothly  than  in  summer.  The  snow  is  less  of 
an    imi>ediment    to    ordinary     business    than    is    dust    or   rain    during    the   other    seasons 


NOTRK  DAMK,  FROM  ST.  URHAIN  STREET. 


I' 


(jf  tlu;  year.  It  is  a  decided  impediment,  indeed,  to  the  progress  of  conflagrations, 
witli  wiiicii  Montreal  used  to  be  scourged.  The  department,  however,  is  now  so 
thoroughly  organized  that  it  is  almost  iTupossibk-  for  a  fire  to  make  any  headway 
before    it    is   checked.       The    alarm    system    is    so     perfect    and    the    brigade   so    disci- 


'■i:\ 


M(hV    Rli.lL. 


^n 


I)liiu;(l,  that  no  coiilla^^rations  on  an  extensive  scale  have  taken  place  within  the  past 
twenty-five  years.  Iwerythinjj  is  also  clone  to  protect  property  in  case  of  fire.  The 
illustration    is   a   spirited   sketch    of   a   salvage  wagon    that    has    just   come    out    of    the 


IN     ST.     GAHKIIM.     srUKKT. 


fire  station  on  St.  Gabriel  Strcjet,  and  is  plunging  along  between  the  lines  of  pi!ed-up 
snow,  to  the  spot  indicated  by  the  alarm.  'Tlic  duty  of  the  men  is  to  cover  up  all 
endangered  property  with  tarpaulins,  and  to  bi:  its  custodians  till  (iuesti<ins  of  ownership 
and  insurance  are  settled. 

In  a  first  visit  to   Montreal,  by  all   means  let  the  tra\<'ller  a|)proach  from  tin;  water — 


•38 


QUEIiF.C. 


m 


ll: 


'\\ 


from  up  stream,  down  stream,  or  the  soutli  sliore.  I'rom  all  three  directions  the  view  will 
repay  him.  i'he  ri\er  itself  is  so  fascinatinj^  in  its  strenj^th  of  cr)'stai  piirit)',  so  over- 
powerinjT  in  vastness  anil  mijjht.  tiiat  it  would  dwarf  an  onlinary  city.  It  does  dwarf  every 
otiicr  i)lace  alonjj;  its  lianks— Ouehec  alone  excepted.  It  hears,  lij^litly  ,is  a  jjjariand,  the 
chain  of  the  jrreat  briiltje  that  hinds  its  oppositi-  shores  with  multiplied  links  of  massive 
jjranite.       The  jjrcen  slopes  of    St.    Flelen's   isl.uid   restinjr  like  a    leaf    on   the    water,   the 


forest  of  masts  and 
retl  and  white  fun- 
nels, the  old-fashion(;d  hay  and  wooil  barges,  the  lonj^  line  of  solidly-built  revetment 
wall,  the  majestic  dome  of  the  lionsecours  Market,  the  twin  towers  of  \otr(?  Dame, 
|)alatial  warehouses,  j^^raceful  spires  sown  thick  as  a  lield.  .ind  the  broad  should'»rs  of 
.Mount  Royal  uplifted  in  the  backj^round,  make  up  a  i)icture  that  artist,  merchant,  or 
patriot — each  for  his  own  reasons — may  well  delijrht  to  look  upon.  To  persons  coming 
from  abroad,  believing  Canaila  to  In-  a  wilderness  of  ice  and  snow,  the  iiome  of 
Indians  ami  buffaloes,  the  first  \  iew  is  a  revelation.  When  tlu:y  drive  through  any 
of  the  numerous  magniliccmt  business  thoroughfares,  anil  then  round  the  mountain,  they 
sometimes  consider  what  sort  of  a  back  country-  that  must  \w  which  sujiplies  such  a 
river   and    builds    up    such    a   cit)',  and    wonder    wh)      in    the    face    of   such  granil  enter- 


y 


MONTREAL. 


139 


/; 


prises    and    unrivalled    progress  on    the    part    of    Canadians— they    have    never    heard   of 
such  a  thing  as  Canadian  patriotism. 

Of   the  three  water  views  there  is  none  equal  to  that  obtained    on  a  summer  after- 
noon or  evening  from  the  deck    of   a    steamer  coming    down    stream.       I'rom    the    time 
the   Indian    pilot    is   taken    on    board    above    the    l.achine    Rapids,    all  is   eager    expect- 
ancy on  the  part  of   passengers  who  have  made  the    journey    again    and    again,  as   well 
as  in  the  case  of  tourists  who  are  running  the  rapids  for  the    firr.t    time.       As   we    near 
Victoria    Bridge    it    seems    impossible    that    the    "  Corsican "    can    pass    under,    and    the 
question  is  sometimes  asked  whether  there  is  any  arrangement  for  lowering  the  funnels. 
The  steamer  glides  along ;   we  look  up  and  see  our  mistake,  and  then  look  down  upon 
the    innocent    questioner.       Now    the    crowded    harbour,    the    city    in    its    fresh    beauty, 
and  the  mountain    in   all  the   glory  of   its  summer  vesture,  are    revealed.      The   steamer 
rounds   up   to   the   Commissioners'  Wharf,   to    discharge  its   Quebec   passengers  into  the 
huge    palace    lloating    alongside.       Laud    here    and    stroll    down    stream    before    taking 
a  cab.      You    soon  finil    >ourself    in    the    heart   of    French-Montreal.       Here    are   antique 
barges    with    hay,    from    the    surrounding    country,    which    is    being    unloaded    into   carts 
primitive   enough    for   the   days    and    the    land  of  Evangeline.       Instead    of  the  rush    of 
an   American  city,  there  is  an  air  of  repose  and    human   enjoyment.      The  very  coasters 
anil  carters  pause    in    their    work,  to    exchange  gossip   and    cheery  jokes.       Here,  again, 
are    wood-barges    that    have    evidently    come    from    a    greater    distance.        liach    barge 
discharges  part  of  its    load  at    once    and    places    it  on  the  wharf  on  racks    that    indicate 
its  measurement    by  the  cord.       The    purchaser    can    thus  point    out    exactly   how   much 
he  wants,  "and  the  barge  remains  calmly  beside  the  wharf    till    the   whole   cargo    is   sold. 
A  few  years  ago,  wood  and  hay  barges  were  to  be  found  in  the  centre  of  the  harbour  ; 
l)ut    the    increasing    traffic    is    pushing    them    farther    and    farther    down,  all  the   way    to 
Hochelaga.       Return    to   the    Honsecours.       Tlie  market  is  a  great  three-storey  parallelo- 
gram of   cut-stone,  occupying  a  square  on  the  river-front,  and  with  a  stately    dome   and 
cupola.       It    is    crowdetl    on    the    forenoons    of    market-days,   when    the    manners    of    the 
habitant  can  be  studied  to  best  advantage.       He  hcis  come  to  the  city  with  the  produce 
of  his  farm  or  garden.       Quiet,  patient,  courteous,  he  waits  for  customers.       Sometunes, 
these  may  be  his  own  neighbours  who  happen  to  need  what  he  has  to  sell,  and  then  he 
puts  down  his  price  a  little.     Sometimes  they  are  from  the  East  End — French  therefore — 
and  to  them  he  is  more  than  amiable,  and  sells  fairly.       But  the    grand    lady    from  the 
West  End,  while  receiving  ample  politeness,  must  pay  full  price.     Still,  there  is  good  feehng 
between  the  different  races  and,  for  the  most  part,  honest  dealing.     Are  they  not  citizens 
of  a  common  country,  even  though  the  Ultramontane    studiously   characterizes   those    of 
English   speech    as  "foreigners"?      From    the    market,  go    up    the    lane   leading   to   the 
old-fashioned  church.     The  lane  is  encroached  upon  by  little  dingy  eating-houses,  thrown 
out,  like    buttresses,  from    the    walls    of   the    church.       Dingy  as    they    are,  they   give    a 


M 


m 


1 1 


1^ 


140 

».  r 


QURnEC. 


MAIL    STEAMER    PASSING    UNDEK     \M   li^klA     |.l;IM.I 


i'i 


U  1 , 


V^ 


better  cup  of  coffee  tlian  (Mtln-r  steamer  or  more  iiivitiiii^-lookint^  n-staiiraiits.  \o\\  soon 
reach  St.  Paul's  Street,  tlie  street  tliat  constituted  the  City  of  Montreal  at  lirst,  and 
now,  b\-  all  means,  enter  the  favourite  city  church  of  tin;  liabitaiit.  Tlu;  loud  colours, 
the  tawdry  j^nlt  and  jreneral  bad  taste  of  modern  Catholicism,  and  the  elaborate  upholstery 
of  shoddy  Protestantism,  are  alike  conspicuous  by  their  aljsence.  The  relievos  on  the 
walls,  the  altar,  the  antique  pulpit,  remind  one  of  a  seventeenth  century  parish  church 
in  Brittany.  We  an;  tak(;n  back  to  the  da)s  of  .Marjfuerite  Bourgeois,  who  laid  the 
foundation-stone  more  than  two  centuries  ago.  Baron  de  Fancamp  gave  lier  a  small 
image  of  the  Virgin,  endowed  with  miraculous  virtue,  on  condition  that  a  ch.ipel  should 
be  built  )r  its  rec(;ption.  Marguerite  and  the  people  of  Montreal  enthusiastically  com|)lied 
with  the  condition.      From  that   da\',   many  a  wonderful  deliverance,  especially  of  sailors, 


has  been  attributed   to    Our    Lady  of    (iracioiis    Help.       The  image  still   stands 


on 


the 


MONTI<i:.\L. 


141 


^'al)lr  nearest  tlu;  river,  and  wiihin,  votive  offerings  and  memorials  of  deliverances  almost 
liidi;  tile  altar.  An  agnostic  might  envy  tin:  simple  faith  of  tlu;  people,  and  tin-  states- 
man Kuild  desire  no  lietter  raci!  to  till  the  soil.  Ivvery  true  Lower  Canadian  loves  the 
Honstfcours  Chapel.  It  symbolizes,  to  a  race  that  clings  to  the  past,  faith,  country  and 
fatherland.  And  it  is  the  only  symbol  of  the  kind  that  "modern  imjirovements"  have 
left  in  Montreal.  'Ww.  old  Recollet  has  been  sweju  away.  The  spoilers  have  spoiled 
Ou<;bec.  And  all  over  the  Province,  (juaint  churches  beloved  by  the  people  are  being 
replaced  liy  huge,  costly,  modern  structures.  In  tiie  name  of  everything  distinctively 
Lower  Canadian,  spare  symbols  \Wv,  Varennes  and  tiie   Hon.secours ! 

Here,  besiile  his  church  and  market,  in  the  stately  commercial  metropolis  of  Canada, 
the  white  city  ol  .\merica,  we  K-ave  the  liahitant,  with  cordial  recognition  of  what  he 
has  been  antl   is,   and   with  all  good   wishes  for  his  future. 


IN  LOADING    HAY    BARGES. 


